


Rebuild All Your Ruins

by NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Multiple Pairings, POV Multiple, Post-Movie(s), Rebuilding, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-09 19:56:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12895578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesAwl/pseuds/OlivesAwl
Summary: They hauled and sawed and hammered and built. By the time the sun was setting, they were all exhausted. People began lighting torches, and Thor called a meeting at the edge of the field where the ship was parked, standing on the ramp to be visible, and showed everyone the tiny Ygdrassil, which had already started to sprout a new leaf.“I know we’re all still mourning,” he said, projecting loud enough to hear. “There are still hard times ahead. But our Alfan hosts have shown us great generosity and their queen has offered us her protection and hospitality. We are alive and safe and the Tree still lives. There is reason to hope.”She turned and looked at the crowd. People looked exhausted, too, and sad. But she could see the smiles, too. The willingness to believe. When you’ve lost everything, you reach for anything you can.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Olives and I generally don't participate in NaNoWriMo because telling us we have to work on something for 30 days is a sure way to get us to ignore that thing for 100 years. But then we saw Ragnarok and wrote a 60K story in 10 days. So, go us?
> 
> Enjoy the adventures of Thor and crew on Alfheim, major Thor: Ragnarok spoilers ahead.

It had been a lot time since she’d thought about Asgard. 

She’d thought she was neutral, after all these years. Or at least numb. She didn’t even feel Asgardian anymore. But then she’d put on the uniform of a Valkyrie again. Dressing to remember the worst day of your life—that was a great idea. Not something that would bring up nasty memories at all. 

It was easier being 142.

Instead she was standing at a window, watching her home blow to bits. Between the adrenaline of the battle and the fact that she was now unacceptably sober, she couldn’t muster the chuckle the Rock Dude’s misbegotten inspirational soliloquy deserved. Any anyway, the room was oppressively silent.

She cast a glance over at Thor, who was staring out the window, stoically trying to keep the grief and horror off his face. She remembered that, what it felt like to lead, and to lose everything. To know you should say or do something, but fear you might collapse if you did.

From the back of her memory, stirred up by Loki’s meddling in her head, words she hadn’t said in a millennia came out of her mouth. “Lo, there do I see my father.”

She heard Thor suck in a breath. On his other side, Heimdal the Gatekeeper rumbled, “Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers.”

On the next line Thor chimed in. “Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning.”

Voices behind them picked up, until all of what remained of Asgard was repeating the prayer they knew by heart. “Lo, they do call to me. They bid me take my place among them, in the halls of Valhalla, where thine enemies have been vanquished, where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice for those that have died the glorious death."

By the end they sounded almost triumphant, which was quite the feat for a group of refugees with nowhere to go and nothing but the clothes on their backs.

Thor finally turned from the window and she got another look at his wounded eye. Which looked really, really bad. “Hey,” she said, quietly. “Why don’t we go clean that up? I’ll help you, your depth perception is going to be shit.”

He lifted a hand, wincing when his fingers brushed his cheek. She could _see_ him about to insist it was fine. But Heimdal poked him and Hulk grumbled and finally he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Come on, I know where the good stuff is.”

It took forever to get through the crowd, because everyone wanted to shake his hand. Odin could walk past people without eye contact, gliding forward like a king without much more than a wave, and people ducked out of his way. Loki, she had to give him credit for, had the royal snobbery walk down, too. Thor. . . didn’t. Maybe it was his personality, or all that time on Earth. 

The only thing that got him moving with any actual speed was some kid yelling out, “Mommy, that man has no eye!”

She dragged him to the main quarters, where the Grandmaster had slept. It had a fully stocked bar, she’d expected, and she’d snagged a first aid kit on their way. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the edge of the bed and smiled when he obeyed without complaint.

“How bad does it look?” he asked as she peered at it.

Gross. Really, really gross. “Well. Your eyeball is gone. I don’t know if you knew that or not.” She could not do this without a drink, so she went over to get one from the bar. He had the good shit.

“I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt more,” he commented, lifting a hand again but stopping himself. “Of course it did at the time.”

“It’ll hurt later, when the adrenaline wears off.” She opened the most appetizing looking bottle and downed a long swig. As it burned its way and settled her stomach, some part of the universe righted a little bit. She grabbed another bottle and brought it over to him. “Here.”

He glanced at it skeptically, then sighed and reached for it, taking his own swig. He hissed after it went down. “Your old boss knew his liquor.”

She opened the first aid kit. It was laughable compared to what they’d had for medical care on Asgard, but it would do for the moment. She got some gauze and antiseptic and cleaned in to get off the mess of dried blood. He sat stoically, more or less. There were a few winces, but they were manly ones and he didn’t make a sound, so she’d let it pass. When it was thoroughly cleaned she dug in the kit again for something to cover it with.

The moment she dug out a large enough bandage, she got, “Absolutely not.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’ll scare the children.”

“I’m king now. I’m supposed to . . . inspire confidence, or something. A giant white bandage is not confidence inducing.”

“I could look for some spray paint.” She watched him sigh and deflate a little, and she felt a little stab of sympathy. Sometime bravado was all that kept you going. So she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll go see what’s in the closet.”

He nodded and she went to rummage. The Grandmaster’s wardrobe was nothing if not. . . eclectic. There were some costumes in the back that she determinedly didn’t think about the purpose of. One of them had a bag of accessories that included, miracle of all miracles, a metal eyepatch, which she brought back to him.

“And my transformation into Father is complete,” he commented when she showed it to him.

“It’s even the same eye.” She leaned in to put it on, using some surgical glue from the kit so he wouldn’t have to use the stupid string. “But you are a much better person.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, though if it was for the compliment of the nursemaiding, she wasn’t sure. “He was. . . far worse than I ever knew him to be. But he was still my father.”

She sighed and sat next to him. “You know, that was the wonderful thing about your sister is that she was a creature of pure evil. She didn’t have a good side to muddle the feelings.”

“That did make fighting her to the death easier,” he conceded. “I used to think Loki had fallen completely into darkness but still he surprises me.” He shook his head and gave a dry chuckle. “I suppose every family has its complications.”

“Darkness is very seductive.”

“I suppose.” Though he didn’t sound like he believed it. “Who knows who he’ll be next time. If I ever see him again.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Other than that she knew exactly how alone he probably felt, and the the crowd only made that worse. She held the bottle out to him. It never failed to help her. 

He looked grateful when he took it, taking a long drink. After a moment of staring off into space, he handed it back. “Thank you for your help. And the healing. I think I need a moment before I face the rest of them again.”

“Now that I believe.” She patted his knee, and used it as a brace to stand. He was really sturdy.

She got to the door before he said, “You know, I never asked you what your name was.”

“I’m Scapper 142,” she replied without missing a beat.

“That what your mother called you, was it?”

She turned. “I never knew my mother. Got any more salt?”

He looked a bit like a puppy she’d kicked. “I just wanted to know what to call you.”

It made her feel defensive, in a way she couldn’t explain. “The Valkyrie seems to be serving the others well.” A descriptive label just like 142 had been.

“Valkyrie it is,” he said, with a little incline of his head.

She looked at him a long moment. “You’re going to ask Heimdal, aren’t you?”

“Nah. He probably won’t tell me, anyway.”

“Then second half of that I don’t believe even a tiny bit.” She smiled. “But I’ll trust you on the first.” She saluted him with her bottle. “Your majesty.” 

“Valkyrie,” he replied with his own little salute.

She went into the hall, closing the door behind her. . . and nearly running smack into Loki. She almost dropped her bottle, which would not have been good. “I assumed you fled into the yonder with whatever you stole from the treasure room.”

“Your assumption wounds me,” he said in a tone that indicated the opposite.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see my brother.”

All they needed was this to get worse, thanks to more sibling rivalry. Fighting it out for the throne or some such bullshit. She sized him up a moment, took a drink, and said, “Look. If you go in there and screw with him for apparently the 86th time. . .”

“Let me guess, you’ll kill me?” He managed to sound bored.

“No.” She stared him down until she was certain she had his full attention. Her voice was steady and full of ice. “But you will wish I had.”

He studied her back a moment, then nodded. “Well, on the bright side, the line for that is much shorter than it used to be.”

*

_I am here, brother._

Of course, he hadn’t actually expected the great oaf to hug him.

“Oof, I said I’m here, I have ribs.” Loki patted him ineffectually on the back. “Your people are waiting for you.”

Thor sighed and released him, but kept one hand on his shoulder. He looked much older than he had a few days ago, marching into Asgard and revealing Loki’s lies. Maybe it was the hair. Loke gave him what he hoped was an encouraging arm squeeze and nodded. To his relief, Thor nodded back and walked past him, to the main deck where the others had gathered.

He was ushered to his chair, between Heimdal and his scary new lady friend (apparently). They looked very regal. There was dithering about where they should go with their ship. Thor seemed to be polling the crowd.

In which case. . . “I have a suggestion,” Loki piped up.

They _all_ turned to look at him, even the big green one, who was standing far too close. “Where?” Thor asked, trying and failing to hide his surprise.

“Alfhiem,” he replied. “The Queen is a friend of mine. While I was King we came to an agreement providing her realm some protection. They’ve been unscathed by the general chaos.”

Thor crossed his arms over his chest. “While you were pretending to be Odin? That doesn’t mean she’ll welcome _actual_ you.”

“She is Syn the Truthful,” Heimdal said. “You can’t deceive her any more than you can me. If she’s met him, she knows him.” 

“Regrettable family curse,” Loki explained. “She cannot lie and she sees the lies of others. We ran into each other at a summit for realm leaders and, well, she saw right through the glamour.”

Heimdal looked at Loki skeptically. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t feel forced to kill her.”

“She’s a shrewd negotiator,” Loki replied. It was probably more accurate to call their agreement blackmail. But she hadn’t hung it over his head, and her requests were reasonable. It was more an exchange of favors, really.

Thor looked over at Heimdal, who shrugged. “It’s as good an idea as any. Alfheim is beautiful. And peaceful, as he says.”

That was apparently good enough for him. “Well then. To Alfheim.”

There was a moment of silence, then Valkyrie said, “It will take us. . .weeks? Months? To get to Alfheim the long way. The wormhole is gone.”

“It is not,” Heimdal said. “You simply cannot see it.”

Loki appreciated that, for once, he was being the helpful, non-vague one.

Thor looked at Heimdal. "Can you get us there?"

He nodded and moved to the controls, gold eyes peering out the window at something none of them could see.

Everyone just sort of stood around and waited, and Loki could sense the anxiety and discomfort radiating from the crowd behind him. Now that they were safe, everyone was crashing. He realized that his brother could lead an army into battle, but did not have a whole lot of experience in the logistics of managing large groups of civilians. 

Regardless of the circumstances, Loki had run an entire realm for two years. Plus this was kind of his ship. He’d stolen it. And Korg, bless his heart, was not a leader. 

Loki walked up to Thor when he got out of his chair. “I’d suggest we assess the provisions of this ship. I believe there is a stash of food. Not rations but. . . snacks. Eating will give everyone something to do.”

He clearly hadn't thought of it, but he nodded. "Yes, I'll help-"

Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back down into his chair. "Sit. I'll go with him and we'll marshal some of the citizens to help hand things out. Your job is to look regal and not pass out."

Thor looked offended. “I’m not the one who downed my bodyweight in the Grandmaster’s fancy booze.”

“I might be drunk, but I’ve got all my body parts and haven’t had any significant blood loss.”

This dynamic was absolutely fascinating. But Loki approved. Thor needed someone who could push him around a little, that he’d listen to without the ocean of—admittedly richly deserved—suspicion he cast at Loki. Everyone else who would casually shove Thor into a chair for his own good was dead now. He swallowed the sharp pang of grief at that thought.

And, well, not _everyone_. And if she was still on Alfhiem where he’d sent her, she might genuinely kill him this time. He might deserve it.

He supposed if he was very, very lucky Syn might protect him. Though he was showing up at her doorstep with 1400 refugees. She might kill him, too.

Valkyrie clearly won the battle because she inclined her head at Loki and led him down a side hall to what appeared to be a galley. "This will have whatever food this place has."

As he’d expected, it was well stocked with ‘party foods’. All of the Grandmaster’s food was decorative. There were cookies with his face stamped on them. Pretzels shaped like the Hulk. And little chocolates shaped like. . . “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said, dropping the box. 

Valkyrie leaned over. “Did you find the Dick Candies?”

"Yes." He was going to need to boil that hand later. "Let's save that for a last resort."

“Says you.” She reached for a handful. “It’s good chocolate.” He watched in horror as she actually opened the wrapper and bit one in half.

"Well don't give them to the children, at least," he muttered, rummaging for something to hold the food to take out to the crowd. There wasn't nearly enough, of course, so he hoped Heimdal knew what in the realms he was doing.

She found a service tray in another room, a big one that glided, and they loaded it up. She was still eating the penis chocolates and seemed entertained by his discomfort. “I heard they were modeled on the real thing.”

He arched brow, glancing at the chocolates. "I imagine the size is spot on."

She snorted in laughter. “Yeah, just about.” She dropped the box onto the pile and they pushed it forward. “My only regret about leaving Sakaar as we did is I did not get the opportunity to cut said appendage off with a rusty fork. Would have been well deserved.”

It was none of his business, and he was trying to be good, so he didn't ask. But there was no deviancy one could accuse the Grandmaster of Loki wouldn't believe. "Well, I'm sure one or more of the revolutionaries felt the same.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” He noticed she’d acquired another bottle from somewhere in the galley, presumably. She looked over at him. “Did you say Alfheim has a Queen?”

“Yes.” Then, because he had a good idea of why she was asking, he added, “She rules alone. Inherited it from her brother several years ago.”

She nodded, apparently happy with that. “Most men are awful rulers. No offense.”

“Syn would agree with you.” He thought he’d done a pretty good job as Odin, but he was not getting into that debate here, with her, right now. “Shall we bring our meager offerings to the crowd?”

The collected Asgardians took the food with gratitude, even if many of them were giving him a bit of the Evil Eye. Many of the women seemed as entertained by the puerile chocolate as Valkyrie was, though she was careful who she offered them to.

When the trays were empty and the pantry fully raided, they made their way back to the front where Thor and Heimdal still sat.

“We are almost there,” Heimdal announced as they arrived.

They stood at the window until Alfheim came into view. It was a small world, and mostly water. There was one continent in the center, and from orbit it looked like it had been hit by an asteroid. Or a nuclear war.

Thor sucked in a breath and Valkyrie looked over at Loki, as if she wasn’t sure if she should offer condolences or blame the destruction on him.

He pointed to the south west coast of the continent. “Aim for that little inlet there. That looks like a high heeled shoe.”

“What happened?” Thor demanded. “I’m not landing down there. It looks like a war zone.”

“It’s an illusion,” Heimdal said, sounding almost amused.

“I did tell you her terms for not revealing me were offering her realm protection.” Loki smiled, admiring his work. “It’s one of my better glamours. Took an enormous amount of energy.”

“That’s how you protect a realm? With deception?” Thor asked.

“Obviously it’s better use the honest method of heavy arms and a high body count, but I’m lazy.” He glanced down at his brother. “You don’t seem to mind deception when it allows you to throw me at a group of guards.”

Hulk snorted from somewhere behind them. Loki had almost forgotten he was there.

The ship broke through the atmosphere, shaking a bit on entry. They all gripped various things to keep steady. Then the ride evened out and they were under the illusion. A sparkling blue sea lay beneath them and ahead was a vibrant green land, dotted with cities and smaller towns. Heimdal had them aimed at the capital and Loki could see the spires of the castle as they approached.

“There’s a large plot of empty land to the west of the palace,” he told the Gatekeeper. “They use it for festivals and such. Should be large enough to land.”

“We are receiving a transmission,” he replied. “I believe they’ve noticed us.”

And probably scared the piss out of people. Syn was going to be mad at him about that.

“Let’s hear it.” Thor already sounded tired.

Heimdal flipped a switch and the communicator popped. “This is Colm of the Royal Guard of Alfheim. Please state your name and business here.”

Thor stood up. “I am Thor, King of Asgard. Asgard has been destroyed. This vessel contains the last of our people. We seek refuge in your realm.”

There was a pause. “We have no loyalty to you, King of Asgard. And I have no way of knowing you speak the truth.”

Oh, he was going to regret this. Loki stepped forward. “This is Loki, the Trickster. Tell Queen Syn the Truthful. . . tell her I need a favor.”

There was a much longer pause, then, “Landing has been granted. I see you’re already headed to the west plain. Her Majesty will greet you personally.”

Upon landing, the members of what seemed to be the ‘Kings Council’ or what have you made their way to the doors, to go out before anyone else.

“I’m just feeling this vibe like she’s going to slap you,” Valkyrie said conversationally. “Am I wrong?”

Loki sighed. “You never can tell with me.”

They stepped out onto the lush green grass and he took a deep breath. It smelled of jasmine and evergreen and the faintest hint of salt from the sea. Just as he remembered. He squinted in the direction of the palace and saw a line of shapes approaching.

“I hear hoof beats,” Heimdal murmured.

Sure enough, the shapes coalesced into a line of . . . well they weren’t quite horses and they weren’t quite deer. He seemed to recall they were called harts, though he could be wrong. He could see the queen at the front, brown hair elaborately braided and pinned up. She rode side saddle and her dress draped elegantly over the back of her mount, a deep sea blue.  
She knew how to make an entrance, he’d give her that.

The other riders looked to be soldiers or guards and he could sense Thor and Valkyrie tense a bit. But they stopped a few yards away and Syn slipped from her saddle, rubbing the neck of the beast before walking forward. “Well, well,” she said when she got close. “The Trickster’s wearing his own face. Will wonders never cease.” She stopped and smiled her odd, twisted smile. “Hello, Loki.”

“Hello, your majesty,” he said, offering her his courtliest bow.

Her smile widened a little, then her gaze wandered to the others. “So, you’ve brought your brother, a Valkyrie and Colm said something about Asgardian refugees? A less trusting woman might be entertaining fears of invasion.”

“Also the Bifrost gatekeeper, some stray aliens, and a Hulk,” he clarified.

“There are less than fifteen hundred of us,” Thor said. “Everyone who knew how to wield a sword died defending Asgard. We’re no threat, I promise.”

She studied him in a way Loki remembered vividly. It meant she was using her truth sense to ensure he wasn’t lying. Whatever she saw there made her smile fade away. She glanced at Loki. “Asgard is gone?” He nodded. “And Odin?”

“Also gone.”

“Ah.” She inclined her head at Thor. “Condolences for your loss.” Before he could answer, she turned. “Colm!”

One of the guards rode forward, a stern looking man with steel grey hair. “My lady?”

“This ship has 1500 tired, hungry people. Send some of your men to the southern orchard and have them pick whatever is ripe. It will hold them for now. I want some of your most intimidating men to go to the Merchant’s Guilds, tell them anyone who owes taxes may pay them off in goods or services donated to the refugees. Preference given to useful things. Food, clothing, shelters. Then spread a rumor at the hunter’s guild that I’m giving out a limited number of off season hunting passes for anyone willing to give the lion’s share of their catch with the Asgardians.” She glanced back at Thor. “Is anyone injured or ill?”

Thor looked startled by what he’d just watched, and it made Loki smile. Syn knew _very_ much how to care for civilians. “We do have some wounded,” Thor said finally. “Nothing serious. But medical care would be appreciated.”

She nodded sharply and looked back to her guard. “Go to the Healer’s Guild yourself, tell Elena I will owe her a favor from the crown if she sends five to ten of her best healers to come help. She’ll only believe it from you.”

He nodded. “I’ll adjust the guard rotation to include the borders of the field.”

“Yes, but only guard, not police. They’re guests of the palace, not prisoners. Anyone mistreats a single one of them and they will answer to me.”

“As you say.” He rode back to his men and Syn turned back to them, smiling again. “Now, I’m sure you’ll want to see to your people, but you’re all welcome to come to the palace to bathe and share a meal. We can discuss long term options.”

“Well, I’m going,” Loki said. He was not going to sleep in a tent if there was a bed available indoors.

Thor cleared his throat. “Your majesty, whatever favor you intend to ask for letting us stay, I insist I share in it. It’s not fair for Loki alone-“

“The favor was letting you land,” Syn interrupted. “A small enough thing I think the Trickster is capable of paying me for. I’m letting you stay because I’m not a monster.”

“Thank you,” Thor said quietly, the day clearly weighing on him.

“And I’m fond of your ambassador. She’d want us to take care of her people.”

He frowned and looked at Loki. “Ambassador?”

“Colm said she was on her way,” Syn replied, turning to look at an approaching dust cloud that none of them had noticed. The rider was on an Asgardian horse. Because she’d insisted on taking hers.

As she got close enough to recognize, Thor called out a surprised and joyous, “Sif!”

When she reached them, though, she rode the horse up right in between the groups, leaping down off of it in front of Loki. He couldn’t even get his mouth open before she cold clocked him right in the jaw, sending him back on his ass.

“Well,” Valkyrie said. “I knew someone was going to hit him.”


	2. Chapter 2

The palace of Alfheim was nothing like the one Thor had grown up in. Asgard had been marble and gold. Enormous halls and sweeping ceilings. Alfheim was plush carpet and fine linens. Heavy wood and warm colors.

Once they had helped the remains of Asgard disembark from the transport, the guards had arrived with baskets of fruit. Loki and Heimdal had organized the distribution, then people had begun arriving with materials to build tents and other shelters. Sif had taken over that organization. It had all left Thor feeling very dazed and somewhat useless.

When everyone was fed and their tent city was well on its way to being built, the others had convinced him to go to the palace for the bath and meal the queen had promised. He had been ushered to a guest room decorated in reds and browns, with an intricately carved wood bed and a private bath. The hot water had admittedly felt wonderful on his sore muscles, and the fresh clothing that had been laid out when he was done was a welcome change from the armor he’d been wearing.

It was far different than the last planet he’d been a guest on, that was certain.

He wasn’t sure what to make of his host. He had no memories of meeting the ruler of Alfheim before, though that didn’t mean much. If there wasn’t a fight to be had or challenge to overcome he hadn’t cared much for it. He hadn’t learned to be a politician, not the way Loki somehow had.

Heimdal assured him she could be trusted. That she couldn’t lie to them. That would have to be enough.

Thor made his way to the dining room in search of the promised meal. Hulk was at one end of the table with Heimdal, making a mess as he tried to eat. Valkyrie was at the other, with a jug of ale and what looked like more food than Hulk. There was no sign of his brother.

Valkyrie looked up at Thor. “Your brother said he was stuck like that now,” she said, nodding her head towards Hulk.

“That’s what Banner seemed to think,” he said, zeroing in on the buffet. “He didn’t want to change again but. . .” Today had been a mess.

“Battle is often a choice between horrifying and worse,” she replied.

“I know.” For perhaps the first time in his life, Thor wasn’t hungry. But he need fuel, so he loaded his plate and went to sit beside her. “Hulk is a warrior but Banner. . . Banner was not. At least, I never thought of him so.”

“Most of the people on the Bifrost bridge had clearly never picked up a sword in their lives,” she said. “Maybe everyone has some warrior in them.”

He looked over at her and she took a swig of her ale, at least partially to avoid his gaze, he thought. It was a far more optimistic view than she’d had a day or two ago. Perhaps he needed to start reminding himself of the little victories, in between wallowing in the failures.

“It’s been a long day,” she commented. “This is really not what I expected when I got up this morning.”

“I’ve had a long series of days like that,” he told her. “I’m hoping tomorrow might be a bit more predictable.”

One of the rooms doors opened and Lady Sif, looking dusty and tired. They hadn’t hadn’t spoken much beyond the briefest explanation of what had happened. There had been too much to do, and all she’d said was they would talk later. He stood up when she came around the table, and she threw her arms around his neck in a very uncharacteristic hug. 

He squeezed her tightly, lifting her off her feet a little. “It’s very good to see you,” he said quietly.

She leaned back to look at his face. “Did they die with honor? Our friends?”

“They did,” he assured her. “Hogun led our army against her and the others tried to stop her at the gate.”

Sif inhaled a slow breath. “I should have been there.”

“You’d be dead, too,” Valkyrie said around a mouthful of bread.

Sif turned to look at her. “Sometimes that’s preferable to being the only survivor.”

Valkyrie sucked a breath, and then swallowed her bread. “Yeah.” She reached for her drink and chugged it.

“I’m sensing tension in the room,” Syn said from the doorway. Loki was with her, she had her arm twined through his but released him as they entered. “Do we need more wine or less?” She passed Valkyrie and gestured and the warrior’s jug refilled. “Sif, do sit and eat, you look exhausted.”

“You get used to her,” Sif told him quietly, heading for the buffet.

“A person who cannot lie, and people cannot lie to, is the most refreshing thing I have heard of in my life,” he replied. “We might actually have an honest conversation.”

Syn brought a plate over and sat across from him. He was surprised and pleased when Loki took the seat next to him and Sif the one on the other side. “The healers have seen your people,” Syn told him, sipping wine from a delicate goblet. “The injured have been seen to. Three women admitted to being pregnant. None of them are near delivery and exams showed the babes to be unharmed. They’ll be put on the priority list for supplies. I’ve spread word to my people and donations are coming in. Bakeries have sent their leftover goods and we’ve a dozen hunters going out tomorrow, so food will not be a concern. Sif, if you could gather any Asgardians with hunting or fishing skills I can see they’re outfitted with supplies as well.”

“I will,” she said.

“I can’t tell you how much we are grateful for your generosity,” Thor said.

She inclined her head. “I’ve managed to glean most of the story. I’ve lost my home and been adrift, I know it can be frightening. For what it’s worth, I do think you did the right thing. A ruler’s priority should be the people, not the land they live on.”

“We were always told Asgard was the source of our power,” Loki said. “Just like Hela’s. It kind of felt like they meant the land.” He looked at Thor. “Are we weak now?”

“Asgard is not the city,” Heimdal said from the other end of the table. “It is its people. And its faith.” He rummaged in the bag he had at his feet and pulled out a small earthen pot with a tree cutting in it. “And its traditions.”

Syn’s eyes widened. “Is that the Tree?”

“It is,” he replied. “When it became obvious that the realm would be lost, I cut a piece to rebuild. That is what is foretold to happen after Ragnarok.”

“My mother used to say, as long as Ygdrissil lived there would be magic in the realms.” Syn looked at Loki. “I’d say you’ll be all right.”

“We just need to find somewhere to plant it.”

“You cannot live long in a pot,” Heimdal agreed. “Or a tent.”

Syn looked back to Thor. “That does bring us to the matter at hand. What to do now.”

“More food!” Hulk demanded from the end of the table.

She sighed. “I don’t mean to be rude, but does your friend plan on changing to his true form anytime soon? Trying to look at him is giving me a headache.”

“I’m afraid he can’t,” Thor said. “He’s stuck in that form.”

Her brow furrowed. “He can’t control his transformations?”

“He didn’t believe another transformation would be possible, after this one.”

She arched a brow at Loki, who shrugged. “Midgardian magic.”

“Well, that is what comes of dabbling,” she tutted, getting to her feet. “Do you like him like this or would you prefer the other?”

“This one,” Loki said, and Thor kicked him under the table.

“The other,” Thor said firmly. “This one is useful in a fight, but the other is the real him and I know he’d rather be back.”

“Right then.” She stood and walked down the table. Hulk had gotten impatient and grabbed a deer haunch off the buffet. He paused mid bite when she approached him. Syn studied him a moment, rubbed her palms together briskly, then reached out and pushed him.

There was no prolonged battle, no painful morphing of limbs and muscle. Just a flash of bright gold light and Banner was sitting on the polished wood floor of the dining hall, the deer leg next to him.

He blinked up at Syn a moment, then scanned the room until he saw Thor. “Did we win?”

“We survived,” he replied. “We destroyed Hela, and Asgard with it. But the people survived.”

“Oh. Good. Well. Where are we, how long have we been here, and can I have some clothes.”

“You’re on Alfheim,” Syn told him. “About eight hours. And here.” She gestured and a shimmer of gold enveloped him, coalescing into a tunic and pants. She held a hand out and helped him up. “Please, enjoy the rest of your dinner.”

“You’ve now been on three planets,” Thor said. “Four, if you count Asgard.”

He brushed his tunic with his hands. “Alfhiem, huh? I approve.” He looked up at Syn, apparently sensing she was the one to ask. “It there food other than this gigantic meat leg?”

She pointed back to the buffet. “Help yourself. I’m especially fond of the little custard tarts.”

“Great, thank you.” He hopped up and went to get himself a plate.

“So,” Loki said. “What do we do now? A lot of that is up to you, your majesty.”

She gave Loki a look Thor couldn’t read as she rejoined the table. When she turned back to him it was gone. “The way I see it, you have three options. One, we integrate your people into mine. I’ll send letter to out larger cities, see how many they can take. I’m sure there’s some guilds who could use fresh blood and I understand most of your group are workers and craftsmen. They’ll intermarry and mingle and in a few generations, having Asgardian blood will be a bit of dinner table trivia.”

Holding up two fingers, she continued, “Next. We find some largish plot of land for you to annex, write up a thorough and complex treaty and attempt to be friendly neighbors. There are several downsides to this, as I’m sure you can imagine, but it would keep your people together.

“And finally, we can make what provisions for your people we can while you go out and try to find somewhere unpopulated to colonize.”

“Your people can interbreed?” Bruce asked before Thor could form a reply.

“Yes,” Sif said. “Asgardians, Vanir, and Alfans can all interbreed.”

“Some say we can with the Jotuns and Dwarves, as well,” Syn added. “Though I know of no products of such unions.”

“That’s probably good. If the people on the bridge are all that was left, you don’t have enough genetic diversity for option C.”

Thor sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Treaties and colonization. Genetic diversity. He really wished this was a problem he could solve with fists.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Syn said gently. “Think on it, discuss with your council. We can revisit the topic in a day or two.”

“Sleep,” Valkyrie said. “Sleep would be good, too.”

“Sleep solves many things,” the queen agreed.

Thor nodded. “I will think on it. Again, I thank you for your hospitality.”

“You’re welcome as long as is needed.”

Weariness sank into him. He was as exhausted as he’d ever been, and his eye still hurt. Itched, too, because Valkyrie had glued it to his face. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He glanced over at her, but couldn’t see her without turning his head because she was on his right. Sleep really did sound like a good idea.

“Would you like me to look at that?” Syn asked, gesturing to the patch. “I am a healer.”

He waved a hand instinctively. “It’s fine.”

The others seemed to exchange significant glasses, then Syn nodded and stood. “Then at least allow me the honor of escorting you to your room. As your host.”

That he acquiesced to. The others began getting up when he did, so he followed Syn. “You may get tired of me thanking you, but I’m afraid you’ll be hearing it a lot.”

She laughed and tucked her arms into his, at least partially, he thought, to hold him up. “Gratitude is always welcome,” she told him. “I really am happy to help, though.”

“Beware of my bother,” he said. “I don’t believe he has ill intent, but there isn’t a person alive he wouldn’t betray for the right motivation. I don’t know what deal you have worked out, but do not trust him.”

She squeezed his arm. “Oh, don’t worry. I can handle your brother quite well, even without a secret to hold over him.”

“In that case, I will trust you.”

“He amuses me, your brother. Most people, once they know what I am, don’t even try to lie to me anymore. But he persists. As if he told _just_ the right bent truth I wouldn’t notice.” She smiled. “Keeps me on my toes.”

They reached his rooms and stopped at the door. She peered at him a moment, then reached up and covered his injured eye with a hand. There was heat and the itching grew exponentially, then it was gone.

“I can’t regrow the eye. But that should feel a bit better.”

He frowned. “It does, thank you.”

“Suffering does not make you a better leader,” she told him, voice quiet. “Nor is it penance for whatever guilt you carry.”

“What is?” he found himself asking, almost despite himself.

Her smile this time was different, and very sad. “Doing better.” She took a step back, then another and sketched a bow. “Sleep well, Thor of Asgard. Tomorrow is another chance.”

*

Syn stayed up late, dealing with the last of the details in getting the refugee city running. And then woke bright and early the next morning to deal with whatever had gone wrong during the night. The fairy tales never talked about how much paperwork being a queen involved.

Her assistant, Hilde, paced behind her as she dressed. “The Council is pissed.”

Syn smirked, studying her wardrobe. “Yes, I imagine so. How many angry messages have I received?”

“Four. Two polite ones and one messenger who insisted she couldn’t repeat her master’s exact words.” Hilde looked up from her papers. “That was Lord Eoin.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could have guessed that.” She sighed and chose a grey gown with simple lines, a nod at mourning. “Well, that’s only seven. When we hit nine I’ll announce a council meeting. That might buy me a day or two.”

Hilde snorted in a way that meant she disapproved. “The scholars found out you have a Midgardian here and want to borrow him.”

“He’s not a pet I can order around, but I’ll tell him. Loki says he’s a scientist on his planet, he’ll probably be interested. Anything else?”

“The Teachers Guild sent some apprentices to the camp to help wrangle the children. Three hunting parties went out, pledging their catch to the refugees. And Lady Sif is gathering a group of Asgardians to go fishing.”

“Excellent. And the palace guests?”

“Last I heard still asleep, thought that was almost half an hour ago.”

“I’m sure they’ll make their way to breakfast eventually.”

“The night guards said they heard one of them yelling last night, but couldn’t tell which room. Are Asgardians very loud sleepers?”

“You ask me like I know.” The grey was a little severe, so she went to her vanity to rummage through her jewelry. “They did all go through a rather suicidal battle and burning of their homeland. I imagine that causes a nightmare or two.”

“That is true. I’m just telling you what was told to me.”

“Understood.” She didn’t know what she’d do with this information, but it was good to know. “Keep me posted on our council complaints and if anything else comes up. I’m going to see to our guests and check on the refugee camp.”

She went to breakfast, and watched them straggle in. Most looked much better for a night’s sleep. Valkyrie, she noticed, looked worse. She didn’t get any food, just tea, and plopped herself down at the end of the table.

It occurred to her that she didn’t know much about this particular newcomer and that she did not entirely fit with the rest of them. Leaning forward, she asked, “Tell me, Lady Valkyrie, do you have any interest in hunting?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I think I’ve already well exceeded my life quota for recreational violence.”

“Ah. Well, the violence is purely voluntary. Hunting is more of a sport or leisure activity on Alfheim. We-“

“She means setting a few traps and snares and spending the afternoon in the hot springs,” Sif said, sinking into a chair with them.

Syn pointed. “Yes, that. Sif had joined me on several relaxing hunts.”

She seemed to consider. “Bring some ale and I’m down for hot springs,” she said. 

“Lovely. Sif, will you join us?”

“Absolutely.”

Oh, it had been a long time since she’d had a girl’s day. “I’ll have our mounts ready in an hour.”

“Heimdal and I are going down to the refugee camp,” Thor said. “I am eager to tell them about the Tree. Loki will come with us.”

Loki frowned. “Why? People won’t exactly be happy to see me.”

“You’re welcome to disguise yourself, but I’m not leaving you unsupervised in Queen Syn’s palace.”

“My secrets hide themselves,” Syn assured him. “Even from him. But I agree, you should go,” she told Loki. “They’ll never warm up to you if you don’t let them see you.”

The Midgardian—she realized no one had told her his real name—raised his hand like he was in a classroom. “Am I allowed to be at the palace unsupervised?”

“Yes, though if you don’t mind a _little_ supervision some of my scholars wanted to meet you and ask you questions about Midgard.”

That actually made the man smile. “Sounds like my kind of crowd.”

“Make sure you get information back from them. We like deals and bargains here, they won’t respect you if you don’t ask for something in return.”

“I already have a list of questions.”

She smiled. “Well, you’ll all get along fine. Do remember to eat, I know how they get.”

Thor got himself a second helping, and returned with an extra plate of bread. He pushed it toward Valkyrie, who glared at it like it offended her. “Food will help,” he said gently, nudging it towards her.   
She continued to glare, but grabbed a roll and took a rather violent bite out of it. Apparently content, Thor turned to his food.

Leaning closer, Syn murmured, “Do you need healing?”

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “No. Wouldn’t mind a drink, though.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the hot springs.”

“The sun hasn’t been up an hour,” Loki said. “For God’s sake.”

“Hey, you have your hobbies and I have mine,” she snapped back. 

Loki looked ready to reply but Thor grumbled a very irritated, “Stop,” and he did.

After an awkward pause Syn cleared her throat and stood. “I’ll arrange the mounts for our trip and take care of anything that can’t wait. Ladies, I’ll see you at the stables in an hour.”

“Thank you,” Sif said. “We’ll see you in an hour.”

Hilde made faces at her “taking a day off” but agreed to handle things. Syn changed into riding clothes, ordered some servants to go ahead to the spring and set up a picnic - with ale - and went down to the stables to meet the others.

Sif was already there, saddling her horse. She’d brought the mount from Asgard. “Hello,” she called out cheerfully to Syn. When they’d been rather abruptly been sent an Asgardian ambassador, she’d been pretty pissed off, and the Council had taken it as the first step towards the return of Asgardian control. The consensus was that they should send her back where she came from—particularly once it was obvious she hadn’t been sent voluntarily. But Odin was still powerful, and they wouldn’t open the Bifrost for her. It was Syn’s first inkling something was very wrong on Asgard.

Once it was obvious they were stuck with each other, they had managed to find some things in common. Now she considered Sif something of a friend, and as best she could tell she felt the same.

A stable boy brought her mount and she stroked a hand down his flank as he was saddled. “Lady Valkyrie hasn’t made an appearance yet?”

“Not yet.” She looked over at Syn. “Can I ask. . . how long did you know?”

“About Loki?”

She nodded. Syn sighed, wondering if this was about to ruin that friendship she’d just been thinking about. “About a year. After the summit on Vanaheim.”

Her face was hard to read. Then she asked, “You blackmailed him?”

“I did. I asked what he did with Odin. He told me he hadn’t killed him. So I bargained protection for silence.” She gestured to the sky. “From the outside we looked like a ruined world, poisoned by war. It keeps anyone who might seek to conquer us away.” Alfheim had been conquered enough for her tastes.

She seemed to approve of that. “I think he sent me here because I was the least likely to fall for his shit.”

“That was more or less what he said when I asked.” She touched Sif’s shoulder lightly. “I am sorry I couldn’t tell you. But I swore a vow. I wanted to protect my people.”

“I know. I believe you did the bet with what you were presented.”

“And I am sorry for what happened to your people. And to Asgard.”

Sif ducked her head and nodded. Before she could say anything more, Valkyrie showed up in the stable. She looked to be in a much better mood, though Syn couldn’t tell if her hangover had cleared on its own or been helped along by some of her wine stash. 

“Sorry I’m late.” She stopped when she saw Sif’s horse, an odd mix of pleasure and grief on her face. “God, I haven’t seen a horse in so many years.”

“I’m afraid horses aren’t common here,” Syn told her. “We typically ride harts.”

“That’s all right.” She came close enough to pat the horse’s nose. “I once rode a pegasus.”

“We definitely don’t have any of those.”

They brought out a mount for Valkyrie and a few minute later they were off, heading into the forest. “It is so green here,” Valkyrie said, sounding a little awed by it.

“The weather is very temperate, too,” Sif told her. “There’s a bit of snow in the midst of winter, but the summers are mild and warm. Everything grows here.”

“I’m told it rains too much,” Syn teased her.

“I’ve spent the last. . . I don’t even know how long, because time there doesn’t work normally, but it was a long time, on a literal planet full of garbage.” 

“Well, I imagine even Jotunheim would be a welcoming change from that.”

“I think Hela might have been a welcoming change from that.”

“We have very few goddesses of death here,” Syn assured her. “It’s mostly just me and I tend towards negotiation. Hence why Loki and I get along, I suppose. He likes to hear himself talk.”

Sif snorted. Valkyrie said, “I do appreciate that he came back to help us. He seems to have flashes of decency.”

“He’s. . . full of contradictions,” Syn agreed. “I hadn’t thought I’d ever see him again. It was curiosity as much as anything that brought me out to greet you.”

“He conned or scammed his way into information that got us off the garbage planet, should give him credit for that too.” She sounded reluctant to give said credit.

“I rarely approved of his methods,” Sif admitted. “By there were usually effective.”

Syn pressed a hand to her chest. “Goodness, did that hurt? Did the words pain you?”

“I may have to punch him again, just to set things in balance again.”

The came to the edge of the clearing where the hills began to pitch upwards and hot spring was tucked into a rock formation beside a rowdy mountain stream. “Most of Alfheim runs on geothermal power,” she said. “And it makes wonderful spots to swim.

“I fought a battle yesterday,” Valkyrie said. “I’m getting in the water. Feel free to go hunt.”

“I will go set some snares.” Syn rattled the traps tied to her saddle. “Just so it looks like we did something. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Sif went with her, and out of earshot commented, “I hope she doesn’t accidentally drown.”

“So she is drunk again.” She shook her head, scanning for a good spot to set her traps. “I suppose it’s not my job to worry about that.”

“It’s not. Nor is it mine. But Thor seems to have made it his, and him I do worry about.”

“They did fight side by side. That tends to form fast and strong bonds.”

“That is certainly true.” She sighed. “Maybe they’ll both find some peace. I don’t think he’s been settled in years.”

Loki had not spoken much of his brother, other than to assure her he was out of the way and not a problem. She had always pictured him as a perfect copy of Odin. She no longer thought so, given his behavior since he’d arrived. But she had no good read on him. “He has a lot weighing him down right now.”

“He thinks he can carry everything. Though, honestly, even if he didn’t. . . is there anyone else who would right now?” She took on of the traps and set them up.

“A king is as good as his advisors. I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to work with Loki - and Heimdal - to make sure he’s delegating.” They hid the trap with underbrush and walked a few feet to set another. “My brother and I functioned as a team for years, it would have been overwhelming alone.”

“I have well earned trust issues.”

“Yes, I imagine so.” She frowned down at the traps. “I’ll talk to him. If he does have something planned I will strongly discourage him.”

Sif turned. “And then tell me if you can’t?”

“If I do will you kill him?”

“If needs be.” Sif knew better than to lie.

“Then if needs be, I’ll tell you.” She could probably work with that. “Needs be” was a pretty vague requirement.

Sif eyed her a moment, and then nodded. Syn could see she wanted to ask more questions, but didn’t.

They set the last of the snares and returned to the hot spring to find Valkyrie lounging happily in the corner. “Better than a garbage planet?” Syn asked, unlacing her top.

She had her eyes closed, but she smiled. “Yes. Your planet is the best planet.”

“Lovely. I’m putting that on the tourism pamphlets.” She folded her clothes up and set them next to the picnic the servants had left, then eased herself into the hot water.

“The guy who ruled the garbage planet had an elaborate spa. Baths, whirlpools steam rooms, saunas, everything you could possibly want.” 

“There are spas and salons in town with such things. But I prefer this.”

Sif slipped into the water, ducking her head under to get her hair wet. “This water is probably purer, too.”

“Also not full of cameras, with a lecherous despot watching people bathe. And sometimes sharing the video with his friends, for them to watch too.” She opened her eyes. “I didn’t go.”

Syn and Sif made matching, disgusted noises. “I don’t blame you.”

Reaching out of the bath, Syn snagged a wine glass. “And here I was just wondering if we should worry about Loki convincing the men to come steal our clothes.”

“I can take him in a fight,” Valkyrie replied. “Assuming he doesn’t mess around in my head again.”

Sif frowned. “He messed in your head?”

“I wanted to know who I was. He saw the tattoo.” She held up her wrist where the Valkyrie symbol was. “Wanted to know what my story was, so he grabbed me by the forehead and went rummaging in my memory. Thanks for the nightmares, asshole.” She looked at Syn. “Look, I know he’s your friend, but he’s an asshole.”

“I’m well aware he’s an asshole. He threatened to kill me when he realized I knew who he was.” He hadn’t actually meant it, he’d been panicked and said the first thing he thought of. But if she’d been anyone else in the realms, she’d have believed him. “And he fights dirty.”

“He tries that again and I swear I will kill him,” she replied.

She absolutely meant that. Syn’s list of people she had to protect him from was growing.

“Get in line,” Sif muttered, sinking to her chin in the water.

Valkyrie started to laugh, and dunked herself under the water. The chuckle drifted off as she came back up. “I had a Lieutenant who was the most unreliable person you’d ever meet. If there was an advantage she’d take it, if there was an opportunity foist her duties on someone else she’d do it. You couldn’t trust her not to cheat at cards—or any other cheating opportunity.” She sighed. “But there was nobody you’d rather have at your side in battle.” 

“I’d rather have Loki on my side than not,” Sif admitted.

Syn sipped her wine. “Overwrought plays and ego stroking statues aside, he did a rather good job of running Asgard. Though he was a bit surprised at the amount of paperwork.”

“Most of leading a military unit it paperwork,” Valkyrie said in agreement.

“I like the paperwork. I never really wanted to be Queen. My brother - he wanted to be king. Lead the Hunt, host the balls. Stand on the dais in his shiny armor.” She sighed. “I was perfectly happy dealing with the mundane logistics. Then he died and I had to do both.”

“You do a pretty good job,” Sif told her.

She smiled. “Thank you. I try. A lot of it is. . . performing the role expected of me.”

“We all get good at that, don’t we?” Valkyrie asked.

“It’s how you survive things you might not otherwise.”

Sif pulled her mug of ale off the rock ledge. “I’ll drink to that.” The other two clacked their drinks with hers in a proper toast.


	3. Chapter 3

The girl-bonding had been nice. Valkyrie had been a little skeptical of how hunting dovetailed with floating in a hot spring—and it was always weird to be naked with strangers—but she’d enjoyed herself. And, if she was honest, the both of them were quite nice to look at.

On the other hand, hanging around laughing and drinking with a group of women also tugged at parts of her psyche, at memories that hurt. From two lifetimes ago. 

But she was on her third life now, it seemed apparent. She might as well figure out what it would look like. Once they got home, after locating a fortifying drink, she hiked down to the refugee camp to see what the men were up to.

Building things shirtless, apparently. Clearly she had done something right in life because she was apparently getting an entire day of attractive people with their clothes off.

Thor and Heimdal were holding up part of a wall, while several of the Asgardian refugees hammered. She could see Loki a few yards away, carefully measuring something. She had not expected him to look like that under his finery, but she wasn’t complaining. The long scar next to his sternum was a bit of a surprise, too, but did nothing to lessen the appeal. Maybe she should call Syn and Sif to come set up chairs and watch.

She strolled over, barely resisting the urge to whistle. “You boys need some help?”

The two men hammering looked rather panicked, but Thor shot her the first smile she’d seen from him since they were fighting. “Always.”

“I’m not much of a carpenter, but I am strong.”

He gestured with his chin. “There’s some beams over there need moving, I believe. Or you can ask Loki when those boards will be done.”

“When they’re the right size!” he called back, sounding exasperated.

“Half an inch off the side closest to you,” said Heimdal without looking.

“I’ll go get the beams,” Valkyrie said cheerfully.

She carried them to where one of the Alfan foremen said to. Then she helped hammer them into place and raise the roof. “What are these structures going to be?” she finally asked as she stopped for a water break.

The foreman shrugged. “Meeting house and dormitories. More or less. Her Majesty said she didn’t know how long they’d need to be here and we figured some of them would want options to the tents. Trying to make them as versatile as possible, so we can use ‘em for something later.”

“No one will want to be in tents when the rainy season starts,” Loki said.

“No one should be here at all,” the foreman said. “By Winter Solstice this is kind of muddy lake.”

Thor ambled up for his own water jug. “How long until the rain?”

The foreman scratched his jaw. “Midsummer’s in less than a month. I’d say you got ten-twelve weeks until the first rain, five months until it gets unlivable out here.”

“I guess that’s the target,” Thor said. He looked at the foreman. “Is there a drought right now?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “No, we had a good winter. Why?”

“Don’t want to be wasteful if you couldn’t spare it,” he said, then dumped his jug on himself.

It was Attractive Naked _Wet_ People Day, apparently. It was all she could do not to stare. And then she swiftly decided it was perfectly fine to stare. It had been a very long time since she’d actually. . .reacted to a man. At least in a way that didn’t have any sort of agenda attached to it.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. Based on his arched brow, Loki noticed, but it was easy to ignore him.  
Thor clapped his hands. “Well. What’s next?”

They hauled and sawed and hammered and built. By the time the sun was setting, they were all exhausted. People began lighting torches, and Thor called a meeting at the edge of the field where the ship was parked, standing on the ramp to be visible, and showed everyone the tiny Ygdrassil, which had already started to sprout a new leaf.

“I know we’re all still mourning,” he said, projecting loud enough to hear. “There are still hard times ahead. But our Alfan hosts have shown us great generosity and their queen has offered us her protection and hospitality. We are alive and safe and the Tree still lives. There is reason to hope.”

She turned and looked at the crowd. People looked exhausted, too, and sad. But she could see the smiles, too. The willingness to believe. When you’ve lost everything, you reach for anything you can.

The hunting parties had arrived with their catches and people were settling down around cooking fires, passing around baskets of bread sent from the Capital’s bakeries. Valkyrie walked with the others back towards the palace. She’d spent all day in a hot spring and now needed another bath.

“She was right,” Thor rumbled. “It was a good day.”

“This isn’t a bad place to be,” Valkyrie said. “To. . . stay.”

He looked over at her in surprise. “You like it here?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you not notice the quality of my previous domicile?”

“You just. . . I didn’t expect you to settle anywhere.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. “What did you expect?”

“Not sure. That you’d see us safe and go off on your own again, perhaps.”

“Would you prefer I go?” It was a stupid question to ask. Backed into a corner, he’d deny it if were true. He was too nice to do anything otherwise.

“Of course not. I’m. . . very pleased you want to stay.”

She felt oddly self conscious. She needed more of that blade fruit wine before discussing the future. “I used to like people. Maybe I could like them again.”

He grinned. “We’re likable people. Well, not Loki. But the rest of us-“

“Don’t involve me in your flirting,” his brother said over his shoulder. “It’s embarrassing enough as it is.”

She was too tired and sober for Loki’s smug face, so she gave him a shove, hard enough he lost his balance. He hadn’t been expecting it, a sign he was perhaps not properly wary of her. Or was just letting his guard down.

In any case, she strode ahead quickly, getting well out of his range when he popped back up.

Thor rumbled a laugh as they continued on. “Be wary of any snakes you find for the next few days.”

She needed a drink. 

Back at the palace dinner was being prepared, and the table in the dining hall set. She didn’t know if she could get dinner brought to her, but she did get one of the butlers in the dining hall to locate her a bottle of wine. She took it back to her room—which was nicer than anything she’d lived in since Asgard—and ran a bath. She had centuries of hot water soaking to make up for, twice in one day was fine.

The room had come with a collection of salts and soaps. She chose one that smelled nice but not oppressive and dumped it into the water, causing it to foam with bubbles. Then she sank into the hot water with her bottle and sighed. Yeah, she could get used to this place.

One of the servants knocked on the door, telling her dinner was served. She called, “No thank you,” from her tub. She’d had enough people, and this was better than food anyway.

When the water finally cooled, she got out, and wrapped herself in an appallingly fussy and girly robe that was also exceedingly comfortable. She tied it off and wondered how long it had been since she had worn something even remotely dress-like. 

And someone was knocking on her door.

She thought about telling them to go away, but curiosity got the better of her and she opened it, finding Thor on the other side. With a tray of food. “You need to eat,” he said before she could even open her mouth.

She sighed, stepping back to let him in. Instinct told her he would just persist otherwise. “Is that an order from the King of Asgard?”

“Does it have to be?”

“Do you micromanage all your subjects’ diets in this fashion?” She didn’t know why she was arguing with him. The meal smelled delicious.

“No, most of them eat on their own.” He waved the tray towards her. “You worked hard all afternoon, you must be hungry.”

She reached to take it from him, carrying it over to the little table and chairs the room had. “Well. Thank you.”

He nodded and hovered by the doorway as she sat and peered at what he’d brought her. She decided to ignore him until he spoke.

Finally, he said, “What do you think I should do?”

“You could sit in that chair,” she suggested, gesturing to the one across from her.

“Oh. Right. Yes.” He crossed the room and sank into the chair. “But I meant in general. About settling here.”

“I think you should settle here,” she replied, digging into some sort of yellow mashed vegetable that tasted mostly like butter and spices.

He sighed deeply. “Right.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “If we settle. If my people spread to the winds and intermarry, is there an Asgard anymore?”

“If we go and find another planet—assuming we can even do so, which is a huge if, it’s probably not going to be a very nice place. And nice or not, we would be very vulnerable.”

He nodded. “Banner says we’d die out in a few generations anyway. Not enough genetic diversity.” Of course, a few generations for them was ten thousand years or more. But it was still an intimidating prospect. 

“Could stay here and wall off. But I’d be surprised if Queen Syn actually allowed that. This realm is peaceful. With a new, separate ‘ethnicity’, there would be war within a generation.”

“That’s what Loki said. Nothing breeds animosity faster than being perceived as ‘different.’” He frowned and looked out the window. “Which leaves fully integrating. Become Alfan.”

“I suppose you have to decide what matters more to you. Your people or your culture?”

He sighed softly. “It could be argued that there’s not much to Asgardian culture worth saving.”

“Maybe there is a middle road,” she offered. “You seem to have until fall to figure it out.”

“I imagine the queen will want an answer sooner rather than later. And the people deserve a plan. Living in limbo on the back lawn isn’t doing anyone any favors. But, no, I don’t need to decide now.”

She watched him a moment. He had a perfectly good game face, projected the image of a resilient and unflappable leader. But it would slip now and again, and for just a moment he’d look an inch away from shattering. Like someone who’d had an unbearable loss, and then gone on to lose more. A feeling she was very familiar with. “If I may venture something that was a very hard-learned lesson. . . Grief is a bad place from which to make serious decisions.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “Part of me just wants to go to her and ask her to tell me what to do. Because I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

She didn’t know what possessed her to reach out and put her hand over his on the table. Well, maybe she did. Touch mattered in comfort, and people needed to be touched. Particularly stoic men who couldn’t hug without trying to crack a rib in each other’s backs. “You’ll learn.”

He smiled faintly. “I suppose I don’t have any choice, do I?”

“A coward might give up. Run and hide. But you’re not one.”

“I try not to be. But problems I can punch are much easier.”

“You can try punching. I do it plenty. But in this case I don’t think you’ll like the result.”

He laughed at that, that rumbly chuckle that she felt as much as heard. “I suppose I’ll have to use my words, as Loki says.”

She finished off the meat on her plate. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Did you really want be a Valkyrie when you were a little kid or was that just a misbegotten attempt to charm me?”

He grinned widely. “I absolutely wanted to be a Valkyrie. Loki will happily tell you embarrassing stories about me drawing on my wrist, tying a drape around my neck and pretending my stick horse could fly.”

She laughed at the image. A real, genuine, belly laugh. “That’s adorable.”

“My mother thought so as well. She was the one that told me the stories.”

“We were nothing more than a sad tale by then,” she replied. “I suppose you could have just declared yourself one.”

“Didn’t seem right until I’d earned it.” He inclined his head. “I’m sorry. My father treated you all poorly. Trying to clean up his mistakes.”

“I don’t know that ‘treated poorly’ is an adequate description. He sent us as cannon fodder into a fight he knew we couldn’t win. And then when it was finally over he pretended like none of it had happened.” She closed her eyes, and took a drink. He didn’t deserve her getting angry, he hadn’t even been born yet. “But thank you.”

“It’s been. . . difficult, coming to terms with the man my father was. Loki seems to be handling it better. Maybe he always knew.” He paused. “Or he’s repressing it and will try to take over the planet once it hits him.”

“I guess I’m not one to judge anyone for how the process their feelings.” 

He glanced at her wine bottle, but didn’t comment. “We all process things differently. I think it’s going to keep hitting me - us - for a very long time.”

She felt a sharp stab of memory. “It will. Eventually you learn to live with it.”

“I suppose that is the benefit of our lives. We have a very long time.”

“I admit that intimidates me a bit,” she said quietly. “I didn’t expect us to survive.”

His laugh rumbled again. “Neither did I.”

“A glorious ride to Valhalla is both glorious, and gloriously simple. Living is so much messier.”

His mouth quirked. “Dying is easy, living is harder?”

Something about his amusement made her ask, “Midgardian proverb?”

“Something like that.”

She looked down at her now-empty plate. “Thank you for bringing me food. Really.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the talk.”

“Any time.” She looked up at him. “I mean that. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He smiled and nodded. “I am trying to remember that.”

They got up, and she walked with him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow for more construction.”

“I look forward to it.” He smiled down at her as he stepped into the hall. “It’s nice to build something rather than try to knock it down.”

Where he kept digging up the ability to find the positive in things, she couldn’t imagine, but it was kind of nice. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He sketched a little bow. “I’ll see you in the morning, my lady.”

He really was kind of adorable, wasn’t he? “Goodnight, your majesty.”

*

Once the thought had surfaced in Loki’s mind, he couldn’t seem to put it away.

_Asgard isn’t a place, it’s a people._ Asgard was, apparently, bloodlines. Bloodlines that he most emphatically did not have.

Krog and the rest of the escapees from Sakaar took their stolen ship and left on the third day. It was understandable—they’d been trapped on one planet a long time, and didn’t want to set up camp on another one. Loki could tell Syn was relieved, though she wouldn’t say so. But selling her people on a bunch of Asgardians who looked just like them was different from selling them on a motley crew of alien gladiators.

They’d asked him to come with them. He thought about it, but he couldn’t just leave after he’d dumped all these people on Syn. Doing something against his own interests was a weird feeling.

He continued to help with the building projects. He was as strong as any of the others and had an analytical mind that was good at problem solving. It was something to do with the day, at least. Syn was busy running the kingdom and smoothing feathers about the semi-permeant tent city that had sprung up up. It seemed a little early to try to start ingratiating himself into her inner circle.

She was probably too smart to let him, anyway.

It would be a necessity, eventually. If he was going to stay, he’d need to have some kind of power. In case his brother or someone else got it in their heads, once the crisis had passed, to have him punished for his crimes. Of which, he had to admit, there were legion.

He did, at least, have some very powerful tools at his disposal. The kind he could use to build an army.

The largest structure - what everyone seemed to have dubbed the meeting house - was nearly done. He stood to one side with the plans the foreman had given him, checking it over to make sure there were no surprises or mistakes. If the damned roof fell in they would almost certainly find a way to blame him.

Then there was a light tug at his shirttail and a quiet, “Excuse me?”

He looked down to find a small child there. He frowned at it. “Yes?”

“I got this for you.” It held up a small white bundle. “Mama said it was okay.”

He took it cautiously. “What is it?”

“A sweet bun.”

Gingerly unwrapping part of the cloth he found it was, in fact, a pastry of some sort, dotted with fruit and glazed in something that smelled sweet. “It was the last one,” the child - he thought it might have been a girl, there was a lot of hair - said. “I thought you’d like it.”

He was so startled by the innocent gift he couldn’t speak a moment. The child was too young to have nefarious intentions, or lie convincingly. Maybe it was an attempt to win favor? “You did not have to give me your last treat,” he said finally.

She shrugged. “Mama said you were the one who brought the ship. And that you fought the monsters on the bridge. Now you’re helping build. Heroes always get rewards in the stories. We don’t have any gold or princesses. So you get a sweet bun.”

There was absolutely not any kind of lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly and did an awkward little curtsey before skipping off.

He watch her go, and then looked at the bun she’d given him. He took a tentative bite and found it delicious. It would have been quite a thing for a little kid to give up.

“Oh, you got one of the sticky buns,” Thor said, walking up with a water jug. “I heard they’d run out.”

“A small child gave me this,” he said. “As a thank you.”

Thor’s brows arched and he offered him the water. “That was kind of them.”

“It was.” He frowned at it. “Do you think it means something?”

“That he was being nice?” Thor said slowly.

“I don’t know. Are people spontaneously nice?”

“Some people are. Grateful people often are.”

He looked down at his bun, and then took another bite. After a moment he tore off a piece and offered it to Thor.

“Thanks.” He grinned and traded him for a swig of his water.

It was companionable, and felt normal. “I’m sorry I tried to sell you for a bounty on Sakaar.”

Thor nodded. “Sorry about the. . . prolonged electrocution thing.”

“No, I think that was fair.” He paused. “You know, I might not have tried to sell you if you hadn’t insisted on doing Get Help.”

“I didn’t hear you coming up with anything better.”

“Literally anything would have been better.”

Thor was smiling in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. “I wanted to ask your advice on something.”

“You want _my_ advice?”

“I do. You’re my brother and a member of what has become my royal advisors.” He cleared his throat. “And it has been pointed out to me that you did run a kingdom for a few years without blowing anything up or inciting any violence.”

He was really curious who’d pointed that out to him. “I did. It’s pretty boring and there’s a lot of paperwork.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ve been thinking about the Queen’s offers. Korg’s left with our ship. I agree that building a wall and trying to be our own country will breed resentment. But the idea of having our people spread out and scattered. . . We are all that is left of Asgard’s culture and history.” He looked at Loki. “You know her well. Do you think the queen would allow us to become a village of some sort? Under Alfheim’s flag but together and able to continue some of our traditions.”

He tilted his head. “A place to plant the tree. Somewhere to be home, but not to be isolated.”

“Our people would be free to go out and seek their fortune elsewhere if they wished. But they would have a home to return to should they need it. And no matter what happens to me or you, there will always be an Asgard.”

Thor could have taken this to Sif, who knew Syn better than Loki did. But he’d come to him. Valued his opinion. Perhaps their paths weren’t so completely diverged. “I can talk to her about it, if you’d like.”

“No. Thank you, but no. I need to. . . learn to do this. Negotiate. Be a king.” He gave him a sidelong look. “Unless you want an excuse to speak to her.”

Loki cleared his throat. “I can imagine what you’re talking about.”

“You know, differences aside, we have been brothers for a very long time. I do know when you have a crush.” He grinned. “Do you remember that lord’s daughter? The red head? You wrote her a sonnet!”

He remembered. They’d been barely teenagers, and he’d been convinced this girl was the love of his life. “Her name was Astrid. And she let me touch her breast.”

That earned him a smack on the back and one of Thor’s room-filling laughs. “Good for you! Perhaps the queen likes poetry.”

He could feel his cheeks heating. “Do you really want to bring up the subject of romantic interest? Is that really a road you want to go down?”

Thor cleared his throat and dropped his arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Well, at least Thor could blush right along with him. “Right. Well. In the case that you ever get to figuring it out, if you get her to lay of the blade fruit wine and liquor you’ll be much less likely to get punched in the face at two AM. It causes vivid dreams.”

Thor looked at him, startled. “It does?”

“Yes. People like it if they’re happy. No so much if they’re not.”

He frowned, looking off towards the palace. “I feel that if I mention her drinking I’m going to get punched anyway. If not stabbed. But I’ll try to find an opportunity.”

Loki patted his shoulder. “Have a care, she packs a wallop.”

“I envy you a lady not prone to violence.”

Loki laughed out loud. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Not prone to. . . did you know she lead a revolution?”

Thor’s brows hit his hairline. “The woman who changes her dress four times a day? Who rides a _deer_?”

“She can put an arrow in your remaining eyeball from six hundred yards away.” He could hear the admiration in his own voice. The teasing would probably start soon. But there was a reason he hadn’t killed her when she’d unmasked him. And a reason he wanted her in his bed. “When we were children her father angered Odin in some way. Apparently, Odin hadn’t entirely turned his back on his more violent tendencies, because he stormed in here and overthrew the crown, killing Syn’s parents. She and her brother escaped and were raised in secret in the country. When they came of age they gathered an army and came to take the throne back. Now firmly in his mellow old man phase, Odin acquiesced.”

Any teasing was probably worth the absolutely flummoxed look on Thor’s face. “Have you sparred with her?”

“I have. It was worth the bruises.”

Flummoxed had turned to impressed. “I will reevaluate my assessment of her.” He tilted his head. “Though that does explain why Sif likes her. I was a bit confused by that, she generally had no patience for frippery.”

“She is very skilled at deception for someone who cannot deceive.”

“I assumed you saw her as a challenge. Someone you couldn’t lie to.”

“Well, that too.”

Thor smiled. “I wish you the best in your pursuit, brother.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Likewise.”


	4. Chapter 4

Thor sat outside the Queen’s office, in a very comfortable, intricately carved and sumptuously padded chair. It made him feel a bit like a child, waiting for his father to scold him. He didn’t think he’d ever had to wait outside his father’s chambers to be scolded, but there was a strange deja vu to it nonetheless.

He’s spoken to her assistant - the unamused looking woman who was always carrying a clipboard - and she’d assured him the Queen would make time to see him as soon as she could. So he waited. He wanted to talk to her about his village idea, in the hopes they could settle it soon and start plans. The rains would come whether they’d figured it out or not.

Loki thought It was a good idea, as did Sif. And Banner had learned enough about Alfan politics and society to think it would work. He, at least, seemed to have found an alien planet he was perfectly content on. The Alfans put a high value on learning and knowledge. There were several scholarly and educational guilds and most of them had sent representatives to meet the Midgardian. Based on Banner’s excited chatter at dinner the other night, while his scientific knowledge was a bit behind theirs, they respected his education and willingness to learn and were happy to catch him up.

If nothing else, Thor seemed to have done right by him.

The door opened and the assistant came out. “She’s ready for you.”

He nodded and stood, walking into the office. Queen Syn sat behind a heavy dark wood desk, covered in a mix of paper and electronic files and tablets. The other furniture was cozy and comfortable, as everything else was in Alfheim. The most surprising thing was the wall to his left, which boasted a pair of staves, an elegant bow, and a beautiful sword.

Syn smiled. “Please have a seat. I do apologize for making you wait. I promise it was not a power play, this is a busy time of year for us and I had to deal with some things before they became emergencies.”

“It’s quite all right. My brother has told me ruling involves a lot of administrative tasks.”

“Almost entirely. Speaking of, Hilde said you wished to discuss the future of your people?”

He nodded. “I wanted to suggest a compromise between two of your suggestions. I thought, perhaps, rather than a kingdom of Asgard I could form a village of Asgard. Under your rule, but able to keep the people together and preserve our culture.”

She tilted her head. “How separate would you keep this village?”

“I suppose, it would depend on where you put us. If we were isolated we would try to be independent, but welcoming of visitors. Somewhere more populated, we would be the same as any other town. Open borders.”

“Intermarriage would be accepted?”

He nodded. Sif had thought that would be necessary, and Banner was still muttering about genetic diversity. “Asgardians would be free to go where they wished and start lives elsewhere. I know we have some skilled craftsmen and farmers who may wish to find guilds or work land. But they would have a home to go back to, should they need to. And Alfans who wished to join us would be just as welcome.”

“And you would plant the Tree?”

“In the center of town, if possible. I’m assured everything grows here.”

She smiled. “It does.” She peered at him a moment, like she was looking for ill intent. “And you will be peaceful? I will not allow you to use Alfheim as a base to launch any sort of attempt to conquer, enforce, meddle, or start any kind of war.”

He probably deserved that. “I have had my fill of war. Whatever my father’s sins, he is dead, as is his army. I want nothing more than to see my people live and thrive here.”

“Can you keep your brother in line?”

Privately, he thought she was more likely to keep Loki in line than he was. Telling her that would betray his brother’s confidence, though. “I can’t promise that,” he told her, because honesty was his only option. “He seems sincere in his desire to help, but he has before. The best I can offer is that we will watch him, and try to head off any damage he might try to cause.”

She smiled a little at that and glanced over at the wall of weapons. “You remind me a bit of my older brother. Boe. He would have liked you very much, but I don’t know if he would have trusted you.” She blew out a breath and looked back to him. “It will take me time to find some land for you. And I will need to have what I imagine will be an awkward council meeting. But I believe this is a good plan.”

Thor ducked his head. “Thank you. I want to get us out of your field before winter. I’m told it turns into a swamp.”

“It does. You’re all going to want real walls and roofs before the midwinter.” Her smile turned brilliant. “Which reminds me. Midsummer is coming up soon and your people are all invited to the festival. You’ll love it. Bonfires, drinking, weddings. Sex. It’s by far our most debauched holiday.”

That conjured up all kinds of things he didn’t need to be thinking about during a serious diplomatic meetings. “Aren’t we camped in your festival grounds?”

“Yes. But if you’re willing to share a bit, I’ll open my back gardens and we should have enough space. We are nothing if not flexible.”

“I assure you, my people love a good party.”

“It can be our official welcome,” she said. “To our new family members.”

Thor grinned at her, thinking maybe they would really be all right.

*

“- without even a by-your-leave. And now you wish to give them some of _our_ land and let them set up permanently. Have you completely lost your senses? We’ll be overrun in a matter of years.”

Old men, Syn realized, were a bit like small children. When tantruming, it was best to just let them get it out until they’d tired. So she leaned back in her chair at the head of the council table and let Lord Eoin rage. Arguing wasn’t going to get anywhere, not yet. She needed to get a proper temperature of the room before she knew what her strategy was.

The Council of Twelve had been her idea, when she and her brother had regained control of the realm. A King’s Council had been a tradition for centuries before Asgard’s rule, a collection of powerful lords who gave the ruler advice. When they’d reformed it, they’d made sure to include members of the Merchant’s Guilds, the Scholars and representatives from the more far-flung agrarian counties. It was important everyone had a voice.

Of course, there were still Lords to be dealt with.

The frothing seemed to be done, so, in a bored tone, she asked, “Does anyone _else_ have anything to say?”

One of the Merchant’s Guild representatives raised her hand. “The guilds have spoken amongst ourselves,” Brigit said. “The consensus is that the Asgardians are welcome. Finn has already hired a few on his building crew. They’re mostly skilled labor and craftsmen, not soldiers.”

Oh, thank the Tree. If the Guilds were in her favor this would be much easier. 

“There are pragmatic upsides,” said Gorsedd, her head scholar. “Our magic comes from the Tree, same as theirs. I don’t know if it can die, but if it does. . .” He waved a hand. “On the other hand, having it planted and growing _here_ will probably make all of our practitioners stronger.”

“Will that make us a target?” another of the lords asked.

“I have taken pains to make us a very unattractive target,” Syn told them. “Prince Loki has placed a glamour on our planet to make it look destroyed and poisoned. Even if word got out we had the Tree, anyone that came would think they were too late.”

“Asgard’s history is connected to ours,” Gorsedd added. “Violent though it may be. It would be a shame to lose it entirely.”

“Is no one going to say it out loud?” Lord Eoin demanded, as if he wasn’t already saying plenty. “Are we really ignoring it? They killed your parents!”

The room went utterly silent and everyone found somewhere else to look. Syn, personally, was rather glad to have it out. “ _Odin_ killed my parents,” she said calmly. “I know. I was there. Odin is now dead, as is the empire he created and the peace he kept at the end of his sword. Thor, in case you haven’t noticed, is not his father. And the collection of farmers, merchants, and craftsmen camping in my back lawn are not his soldiers. A third of them are children. If they manage to best my army and guard _and_ overthrow the throne then perhaps our next debate should be about the military training budget.”

There was a murmur of chuckling around the room, though not from Eoin. “I have as much reason to hate Asgard as anyone,” Syn continued. “More than some of you. Remind me, my lord, while I was in the woods cobbling together a rebel army what were you doing? Bowing at the steward’s feet, was it?” He turned an amazing shade of red, and she had to hide a smile.

She flattened her palms on the table and stood. “Asgard was a golden city built on blood. Love it or hate it, it’s gone now, ashes between the stars. What is left is 1500 men, women, and children with nothing but the clothes on their backs, who are begging us for help. I choose to help them. I will not let the wounds of the past replace my compassion with fear. I am asking you all to do the same.”

After a long pause in which no one spoke, even Eoin - thank the Tree - she nodded. “On the matter of requisitioning land to allow the Asgardian citizens the settle here, I put it to a vote. All in favor.” The three Merchants and two Scholars raised their hands, as did the youngest Lord and two of the country representatives. Syn made it nine. The other lords and one country representative lifted their hands for nay.

“The matter is passed,” Syn said, feeling immense relief. “I will work with my census bureau and land management officers to find a suitable area. It will be purchased by the crown at a fair price. Owners will, of course, be free to refuse. However cooperation will be remembered, as will non-cooperation.” Sometimes it was good to remind them she was the fucking queen.

There was a murmur of agreement or at least cooperation. She noticed everyone made sure to add “Your Majesty” on to the end.

“Thank you for your time. If there are no other matters to discuss?” Silence. “This meeting is adjourned.”

The waited for the room to empty, telling even Hilde that she needed a minute and to go on ahead. She got up, shut the door, and then turned to the shimmery, distorted bookshelf she’d spent the meeting trying not to look at.

“You know I can see you, right?”

Without further prompting, Loki transformed back into his normal self. “Hello.”

Sinking back into her seat, she sighed, “I’ll let it slide, since we were discussing your fate. But you will not be making a habit of eavesdropping on my council meetings.”

“I knew you knew I was here. I figured if you didn’t want me here, you’d have let me know.” He sat in one of the chairs, watching her. “There’s something I need to show you.”

He looked very serious and she was immediately tense. “All right.”

Loki stood up and inclined his head. “Come with me.”

This was getting more ominous by the moment. She stood and went to his side. When he offered her a hand she slipped hers into it, his cool fingers curling around hers. He took her to his quarters, and she’d have made a joke if he didn’t look so serious. “A little girl gave me her last sweet bun yesterday,” he told her.

“I - that was very kind of her.”

“She told me I was a hero. Which has been just bothering me all day. Yes, I stole one of the Grandmaster’s ships and took it back to Asgard, but I didn’t do that to stage a dramatic rescue of the people. I took it to keep my brother from doing something stupid. I’m not even actually Asgardian.”

She wasn’t going to argue about the last thing, since those particular wounds seemed to run deep. “One could argue running into danger to keep your brother from doing something stupid is still fairly heroic.”

“Everything I do is for selfish reasons. I wanted to save him for me, not for him. Down to the very last moment, I was looking after myself. Looking for the angle.”

“Loki.” She touched his arm. “I’ve known an awful lot of heroes. And I don’t think there’s one of them that wasn’t some sort of asshole. You don’t have to be pure of intent to do the right thing.”

He made a frustrated noise, then waved his fingers. A trunk appeared at the foot of the bed. “Open it.”

She glanced at him and did so. Sitting inside were two cubes that throbbed with magic. The smaller one glowed blue and was clearly powerful, though the magic in it was very foreign. The other was larger, had handles, and felt. . . oddly like Loki.

Standing over the trunk she said, “That would be the Cask of Ancient Winters and. . . one of the Infinity Gems?” He nodded. “Those were in the Asgardian treasure room?” Another nod. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, your brother sent you down there to start Ragnarok and destroy your homeland and you stopped to pick up souvenirs?”

She very calmly closed the trunk, turned, and punched him in the arm. “I don’t think you even know _why_ you do these things. It’s just _habit_ at this point.”

“I couldn’t resist. Besides, they might be useful. There’s no Bifrost anymore, and you can travel with the tesseract.” 

“And you can destroy a realm with it, too. Or with the Cask. And you brought them here. To my home.” She paced away from him. “I stood up for you. I asked your brother if he could keep you in line and he admitted he couldn’t and _still_ I decided to trust you.”

“I know! That’s why I showed them to you.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information, Loki?” She gestured angrily at the trunk. “I can’t have these here. I can’t know that you have not one but _two_ weapons of mass destruction in your room. The next time one of my council members asks me if you’re dangerous what am I supposed to say?”

“I want you to take them.”

She stopped, frozen as surely as if he’d whipped the Cask out. “What?”

“I want you to take them,” he repeated. He reached out and grabbed her hand, so that he had no choice but to tell the truth. “I don’t want them.”

She stared at him, then down at his hand, wrapped around hers. He meant it. Had to mean it. “Because a little girl gave you a sweet bun?”

“Because I want to find out if there’s any good left in me yet.”

The words, and the look on his face, made her heart ache for him. She made a gesture with her free hand and the trunk disappeared in a flash of gold, now tucked nicely in the back of her closet. She’d find somewhere more secure to hide it later. For now it was safe enough. “You should make me vow not to tell you where they are. If you don’t trust yourself not to ask.”

He looked at her a moment. “Swear on the Tree. It think that still counts even though it’s in a little pot.”

“I swear on the Tree, I won’t tell you where I put them.” Heat flared in her hand where he held her and she felt the weight of the vow. “You never cease to surprise me, Loki.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, dropping her hand. “And you should consider putting Thor on your council.”

She nodded and went to the door before stopping and looking back at him. “For what it’s worth, you look like an Asgardian to me.”

He looked away. “I should have shown you my party trick before you put the Cask away.”

Oh, he could be dense when he was in the mood to be. “You know, if you need something magical to make you look Jotun to me. . . perhaps that says something about your true form?”

That got him to look back at her. “I believe, therefore I am?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how your magic works. Honestly, half the time I don’t know how the truth curse works. Perhaps it’s about belief. Perhaps it’s a choice.” She nodded to the spot where the trunk had sat. “Sometimes all we are is the choices we make. And what we learn from them.”

“I make a lot of terrible choices.”

It was simple to tell him to make better ones. It really was the answer. But maybe she’d been right before. After a while, did bad choices become a habit. “I shall make you a deal, Trickster. No favors, not strings. The next time you fear you’re about to make a bad choice, come and talk to me. We’ll think it through together.”

He squinted like he was looking for the catch, looking for the angle. “All right.”

She nodded. “I need to go tell Thor I have approval for Asgard village. And start figuring out where to put it. I’m sure I will see you later.”

Loki smiled. “I hope so.”

*

Space was found, south of the Capitol, for a village that would house the Asgardian refugees, and work began nearly immediately. In search of a productive contribution, Valkyrie volunteered to manage the architectural/civic planning committee. It meant a lot of paperwork, and a lot of arguing.

They had nearly 400 houses to build, plus a plethora of municipal buildings. The village site was on better, higher ground and they could keep building through the winter. They would move what had been built in the current camp onto new foundations, and each family would get a lot, where they could stake their tent and build their own house behind them.

The first order of business was to clear the land, and build infrastructure. They ran water pipes and sewer lines, and mapped out a grid of streets built around a green, where Ygdrassil would grow.

Even with copious amounts of magic—Thor splitting trees with lighting was her person favorite—and heavy equipment generously leant by the Alfan Building Guild, it was still weeks of backbreaking work. But it felt good. She was getting to like feeling of honest labor in beautiful weather.

In the evenings she’d get a bottle of blade fruit brandy and tuck herself into the rarely used parlor Syn had allowed her to sprawl all her survey reports and engineering drawings and blueprints. On the big table that had appeared magically in the middle of the room, she was drawing out a detailed town map on an enormous sheet of parchment. Loki came by once a day to update the 3D render he had floating over it is wispy green.

“The geothermal inspector finished his final inspection,” Loki said, flicking his fingers to turn those pipes a brighter shade of green. “We are approved to start the school and medical center.”

“I will mark that off on my list.” Her eyes were a little blurry, and she rubbed them. “Anything else?”

“Nothing urgent. We may have to give back some of the Building Guild’s equipment after midsummer. But Queen Syn has offered to come down and move large things with magic if we’re in a pinch.”

“I imagine you would enjoy that.”

He arched a brow and gave her a look. The snarky comment she expected didn’t come, though. “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you well. You’ve been rubbing your eyes. And you usually don’t attack unprovoked and I’ve been remarkably civil.”

She shook her head. “Just tired. Sorry. Staring at this is making me cross eyed.” Though she thought he genuinely _would_ enjoy watching the queen lift heavy things. 

He nodded. “It’s been a lot of hard work and long days.” He paused, then added, “You’ve done well.”

“Thank you,” she said carefully, wary of the compliment. She refilled her glass and took a long drink.

“We’re going to lose some workers to the midsummer preparations.” He eyed her drink and she could almost hear him deciding something. “You might want to consider simply calling a few days rest so our people can prepare as well.”

“I’m not the foreman, I just do this.” She waved at the table. “Thor’s in charge, you can ask him.” She got up out of her chair. “And yeah, since I can see the look on your face, I am drunk. I don’t require your commentary.”

“I didn’t say anything. I’m not your keeper or your mother.”

“Good.” She hadn’t wanted to fight him. Especially since the room was spinning a little. It was hell on the fight reflexes when it did that. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. “No. That’s all.”

She waited for him to go, and then swayed into the table. Maybe she should just sit on the couch for a few minutes. Close her eyes. Rest a minute before dinner. If she didn’t go to dinner, Thor would bring her food. Which wasn’t the worst thing, even if right now she might throw it up. Of course, she might get him to carry _her_ back to her room.

She’d probably had way, way too much to drink if she was daydreaming about men carrying her.

When she woke up the sky was dark outside the window and Thor was lightly shaking her.

She felt nauseous, had a headache, and her buzz was gone. So all she could manage was, “What?”

“You missed dinner and weren’t in your room. I came to find you.”

She rubbed her face. “I don’t require a chaperone.”

He sighed. “You require something.”

“I suppose a bottle of brandy would be out of the question?”

“I’m certainly not going to get you one.” He paused. “You shouldn’t drink it. It’s making your nightmares worse.”

“My dreams aren’t your problem.” She swung her legs around and braced one his absurdly muscled arms to stand up—and very nearly fell in his lap. He caught her around the waist, holding her upright.

“They are clearly a problem for you,” he said quietly.

She fought the urge to lean into him. “It’ll get better eventually. It did last time.” All she had to do was drink enough.

He sighed again and she thought she felt him rest his chin on her head. “Do you need help to get to your room?”

She didn’t lean on anyone. She didn’t need anyone. But he was very steady and strong and. . . warm. For a moment she wouldn’t mind staying right here. “Maybe.”

There was a rumble, that might have been agreement or skepticism. Then he shifted his arms around her and started rubbing her back in little circles, which felt far better than it had any right to.

“Maybe a little food in my stomach,” she said finally.

“There’s a tray waiting in your room.”

She took a slow breath, half wanting to fall asleep right here. “Guess we should go there, then.”

He nodded. Then he bent a little and scooped her up, holding her against his chest like a maiden in a story. 

“If anyone sees this. . .” she started in protest.

“You can punch them until they forget,” he rumbled, heading for the doorway.

She closed her eyes, the motion making her dizzy. It was undignified but also nice. He smelled good, too.

She might have fallen back to sleep, because the next thing she knew she was in her room and he seemed to be taking off her shoes. “This definitely qualifies as familiar,” she told him sternly. 

“I promise the sight of your toes will not send me into a frenzy.”

“You don’t know. I have nice toes.”

He grinned crookedly. “The arch of your foot is lovely as well.”

“Thank you,” she said primly. He got up and came back with a hunk of bread with some butter on it. She took it with a nod. It tasted pretty good, so she offered him a small smile.

He nodded and waited while she chewed. “The blade fruit causes vivid dreams,” he told her. “Apparently it’s a mild hallucinogen when fresh. The fermentation dials it down a bit. If you’re a happy person getting drunk at a party it’s a benefit. If you’re not. . .”

She wanted to argue that she was too a happy person, but it would be a whopper of a lie. “It’s what’s here. Thank you for telling me, though. I’ll be careful.”

He didn’t look happy, but nodded as he seemed to know that was the best he was going to get. “Loki says the town is coming along well.”

“It is. We’re probably going to need to take a couple of days off for the Midsummer festival. For both preparation and recovery.”

“Seems fair. Everyone’s been working hard. I want them to enjoy themselves as well. We need it.”

“Teach the Alfans some terrible Asgardian Folk Dances.”

“Syn assures me they have plenty to show us as well.”

She smiled. “You going to try and have a little fun? I might seriously pay money to see you dance.”

“I am a terrible dancer,” he assured her. “My mother despaired of me.”

“Well now I’d pay even more money.”

“You’ll have to conspire with Loki and possibly Sif. Then I’ll know you’re serious.”

“Challenge accepted. I think first I’m going to sleep, though.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

She settled back against the pillows, and reached to squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”

His thumb traced a pattern on the back of her hand. “Anytime.”

It was soothing, and familiar, and so she closed her eyes and drifted off.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning of the longest day of the year, the palace was up before the sun. The Midsummer Festival was a day packed with activities, capped with a feast and bonfires and parties going on late into the night. Revelers had been pouring into the Capitol for days. 

The breakfast laid out for them was light—there would be a ton of food throughout the day. Syn was at the head of the table going through the festival schedule one last time. Loki didn’t have anything particular to do, but he kind of enjoyed watching her work.

“It’s too early to be out of bed,” Valkyrie muttered.

“Drink more tea,” Syn told her brightly. “The games start in an hour.” She took a large bite of a butter apple. “You’re all welcome to join in any that appeal. I participate in the archery competition, even though I’m exempt from winning.”

“Will it cause discord if Asgardians win any of them?” Thor asked.

“Maybe the wrestling, you are stronger than all of us. But I think the skill ones - archery, jousting, spear throwing - should be equal footing. I would suggest you exempt yourself, for appearances sake, but any of the common folk should be fine. There’ll also be a treasure hunt in the gardens for the children. And the Guilds hold contests for arts and crafts that are for sale or auction.”

“I promised one of the organizers for children’s activities that I would make a maze,” Loki said. “They couldn’t build one because of all the stuff we have in the field.”

“I’m glad you’re being useful,” she told him, beaming at him. There was a chime from somewhere and she jumped. “Ah, that’s my signal to go get dressed.” She finished her tea with one gulp and stood, still biting her apple. “I will see you all at the games.”

The festival sprawled across the land behind the palace. Loki spent much of the morning dealing with the maze. It was in several different locations and shapes before they were finally happy with it. Then it was set, and would stay the rest of the day. It filled with shrieking children and he wandered over to see some of the games.

He strolled past the wrestling but wandered off quickly as he didn’t know anyone participating. There were a few children playing games with marbles and stones. He watched for a while, but couldn’t fathom what the rules were. The little one who had given him the dessert was there and he applauded when she seemed to win something.

There was a cheer from the other end of the field so he made his way over to find the archery competition was beginning. There was a crowd of about twenty, all holding their bows and chatting as a young man in finely tailored tunic and breeches took aim and fired, hitting a near bullseye. One section of the crowd cheered loudly and he took a bow and moved to the side.

Syn detached from the group of contestants, taking her place at the mark. For the first time since he’d met her, her hair was completely down, a circlet of flowers perched atop her head, bedecked by ribbons. Her dress left her arms and collarbones bare and seemed to be made of dozens of layers of gauzy material in alternating blue, white, and grey. It frothed around her feet like a cloud.

Honestly, she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. 

The crowd hushed as she notched her arrow and drew her bow. It flew and thunked solidly into the bullseye, earning her a cheer. She grinned, dipping a little bow to the crowd. When she spotted him, the grin spread and she winked.

He waved. He probably looked like a besotted idiot, but he didn’t care.

The next archer took her place and Syn sauntered over to him. “You’re smiling.”

“I enjoy watching a woman kick ass.”

“That’s probably good, given the company you keep.”

He gestured at the target. “I admire the showmanship of it all.”

“It’s fun. And it keeps the egos in check.” She watched the next contestant, who hit the target, but not the bullseye. “I rarely get to shoot for an audience anymore.”

“I don’t know how you play competitive games and resist the urge to cheat.”

She laughed. “Nudge the arrow with my magic? Where’s the fun in that? You haven’t actually won anything.”

“What’s the difference between using your powers and your arms? Really, it should be all the same. If you have magic, why not use it?”

He could see her considering it, watching the competition. “I was born with magic. I had to work to learn how to use it, but it was still given to me. I learned to use the bow myself. With hard work. I earned it, through blood and effort and practice. If I’m better at it than anyone else it’s because of _me_ , not any accident of birth.”

“I’ve never contemplated myself without magic. Probably not much there.” He smiled to show her he was making a joke, not going off on a woe-is-me tangent.

She grinned. “You’d have to be even more clever and charming to make up for it. The realms might not survive.”

“Your Majesty!” someone called from behind him.

She lifted a hand in acknowledgement. “I have to go judge a wood carving contest. Care to come with me?”

“As I’ve suddenly discovered a life-long passion for woodcarving. . . sure.”

Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, she dragged him off.

They judged the wood carving - which were rather impressive, even he had to admit. Then she had to preside over the treasure hunt for the children, which involved a lot of shrieking and sticky hands.

He didn’t really like children. But he really, _really_ wanted to cheat and help the little girl who gave him the bun find something special. But he could feel Syn’s eyes on him, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

She caught his eye and inclined her head to a particular patch of pink flowers. So he cleared his throat until the little girl glanced his way and he pointed to the same flowers. She skipped off and came back a moment later proudly waving a little gold ring.

“I can cheat without magic. I’m proud of myself,” he said. The girl was beaming at him.

“You made a little girl smile,” Syn said in his ear. “I’m proud of you.” Before he could reply, she stepped away and crouched to speak to the girl and see the ring. Other children came to show off their prizes as well.

The craziest thing was, it reminded him of his time ruling Asgard. At holidays and celebrations, interacting with the people, everyone relaxed and happy. There were always children and trinkets at those things, too. But he knew, too, how lonely it could be. So he stuck with her, even when she had to go mediate a dispute over who won a sheep-sheering contest.

The sun started to dip and the games wound down as prizes were handed out and ribbons were awarded. Syn was pulled away to deal with some logistics to do with the feast and bonfires and he wandered until he found his brother. 

“I’m disappointed you didn’t participate in that game involving whacking things with a giant mallet,” Loki said when he saw him.

“I was disqualified as soon as I wandered up,” he replied, waving a mug at him. “My reputation proceeded me.”

Loki laughed. “Maybe they’ll let you start the bonfires with some lighting.”

“I’ve been informed that’s the Queen’s job.” He flagged a beer maid down and handed Loki a mug. “I saw you spent your day with her.”

“Well, she need some help with things here and there.”

“That was nice of you. To be so helpful.” Thor was smirking in an extremely annoying way, but as far as teasing went, it was pretty mild.

“I do try.” He could feel himself smiling, too. “She’s good company.”

“She is. She’s very well loved by her people.”

“Didn’t mother always say magic was highest on the solstices? Today I think I see it.”

“There is a certain. . . supernatural quality to it all, isn’t there?” Thor scanned the darkening field, full of Alfans and Asgardians mingling. “According to the scholars that Banner’s been spending time with, Midsummer used to be a day when rules were suspended.”

Without warning, all the lamps and torches died and the lights in the distant palace went out, sending them into darkness. There was a few heartbeats of utter silence, then the largest of the bonfires exploded into light, gold fireworks shooting up into the sky.

“I believe it,” Loki murmured.

The feast was served then as servants lit the other, smaller bonfires and people grouped together. He searched for Syn on and off, but didn’t spot her. He hoped she actually got a chance to eat between her other duties.

The night got darker and darker, lit only by the fires and a blazing sky of stars. Music began to play, lively and loud, and dancing of various skill began.

“You should go dance,” Thor told him.

“I do not dance,” he replied, in the driest voice possible.

“You were much better at it than I was.”

“That’s not saying much. Do you remember that dance instructor? I don’t remember his name, but he was awful.”

Thor looked ready to answer, but stopped, and odd look on his face.

“Trickster,” Syn said at his shoulder. “I’m calling in my favor.”

He turned and blinked at her. “Now?”

“Yes.” She held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

He looked at her hand. “That’s your favor? I don’t understand.”

Thor thwacked him between the shoulders, making him cough. “Dance with the woman, you idiot.”

She smiled that twisted, crooked smile that always made him think she knew a secret he didn’t. “No one ever dances with me at these things. I want to dance with you.”

“I’m an appalling dancer,” he said in warning, but he took her hand.

The smiled twisted further and she leaned in to whisper, “I’ll help you through it.”

He ducked his head. “In that case, I would be honored to dance with you.”

Most of the people were dancing close to the light of the fires, but she drew him away from them, closer to the edges of the palace gardens, where the music was quieter. There, she drew his hands to her hips, braced hers on his arms and showed him how to move his feet in the steps of a slow twirl.

He wrapped a piece of her hair around one of her fingers and inhaled her intoxicating scent. “I’ll admit, this is kinda nice.”

She smiled. “I’m glad to have converted you.” She pressed a little closer, warm and soft.

“I think you could convince me to do _anything_ ,” he said quietly. “Even be a decent person.”

He heard her inhale, deep and slow. “Mmm, too big a task for one night. I’d rather convince you to take me to bed.”

He bent his head close to hers. She was addictive—her touch, her scent. The powerful, instinctive understanding that she was _his_. “All you have to do is ask,” he whispered.

She sighed softly and moved her head to capture his mouth with hers. There was no hesitation, no maidenly shyness. It was hot, and intense and full of the simmering awareness that had lay between them since their first meeting. He sank into the kiss, forgetting that they were in public and people might be watching. He absolutely did not care.

One of her hands sank into his hair, holding him to her. Her dress was as soft and filmy as it had looked and he found himself wondering if he could just tear it off her. If she’d let him use his knives.

“Loki,” she murmured on his mouth. “Take me to bed.” It was not a question, but a rather desperate order.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He snapped his fingers, and they vanished from the field.

*

Thor had been particularly proud of actually getting Valkyrie to come dance during some of the rowdier dances during the early part of the bonfire. She was a way better dancer than him. As the night grew later, the tone of the music changed, and people began to pair up and then wander off. 

“Syn told me that there’s a big spike in birth rates every spring.” They were sitting on a bench made out of hay, watch the bonfires burn down. She was drinking straight from the bottle, but it was the kind of night where many others were doing the same. “Most common time for the father to be listen as unknown. People get frisky at festival, apparently.”

She grinned and shook her head. “I saw her slink off with your brother not long ago. You may be an uncle come spring.”

“There seems to be a quite a bit of genetic mixing this evening,” he replied. A number of his people had made. . .friends with some Alfans tonight, based on the semi-indecent dancing. “I think she’s good for him.”

“She is,” Valkyrie replied. “People should be happy. Those that can be. Start over, move forward.”

“It’s good. Healthy.” He gestured to the other side of the fire. “Even Banner made a friend.” There was a very pretty blonde Alfan woman sitting next to his friend, listening to whatever he was saying with rapt attention.

“You going to go make any friends?”

He looked over at her a moment, then shook his head. “No. I’m enjoying my current company.”

That got him the ghost of a smile. “I’m not very friendly.”

“Well, look what I grew up with. If you were too nice I wouldn’t like you at all.”

She laughed out loud. It was hard to make her really laugh, and it made him inordinately proud. Then she looked over at him for a long moment. “You seem like someone who can be happy. Don’t bury that under duty." 

“It’s hard,” he told her, because she seemed sincere. “To think about that, when there’s still so much left to do. But I’m feeling less. . . overwhelmed.”

“Things are under control. The ship is righted and it’s sailing. I think we’ll be okay. You’ve done pretty good.” 

“Given what I had. . .” He looked out at the people dancing by the fire, the smiles and peals of laughter. “I think I did very well.”

She bumped her shoulder against his. “You did.”

“Thank you.” Hoping he wasn’t about to get punched, he reached over and took her hand, lifting it to kiss. “For coming along.”

Her fingers tightened on his, but sadness drifted across her face. “Hey,” she said very quietly. “I am not _anyone’s_ path to happiness.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Because you’re the most dogged optimist that ever was. But that doesn’t change what is.”

“Well,” he said quietly. “Maybe I’ll be yours.”

Slowly she closed her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“I’m not trying to ask you for anything. Just. . . don’t end anything before we’ve had a chance to begin.”

He could practically see her retreating behind her walls. She pulled her hand back, and took a good long drink of her brandy, like punctuation. “I should probably get to bed before I start seeing two of you.”

Stifling a sigh, he nodded. “Sleep well, Valkyrie.”

Hesitating a moment, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Thor.”

It was something, at least. “Goodnight.” He watched her walk away, relieved, at least, she wasn’t swaying too hard.

He didn’t stay up too much later himself. He didn’t want to find a mystery Alfan woman, and there was only so long sitting and drinking alone was entertaining. It was sheer coincidence that he was walking past her bedroom door when she started screaming.

It wasn’t terror screaming—the kind where you’re being chased by something, or fighting a monster. It was. . . grief. The kind that was someone pleading with a god they knew wasn’t listening.

He hovered outside her door a few long moments. She had told him her dreams weren’t his problem. Perhaps they weren’t. But he cared about her, whether she liked it or not. And he couldn’t stand to hear her screaming like that.

Her door opened easily under his hand and he crossed the room to her bed, touching her arm to wake her. She jerked awake, and while he kind of expected she’d take a swing, he didn’t expect her to pull a knife from somewhere and lunge at him. There was a crash of furniture and glass, and the next thing he knew he was on his back on the floor, her kneeling on his arms and holding the point of her knife to his jugular.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Are you awake?”

She looked down at the knife, and then dropped it with shaking hands. She scrambled off of him, backwards until her back hit the bed. She put her hands over her face and rasped, “God, I can’t take this anymore.”

Sitting up slowly, he edged closer to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There are things I had buried. I thought well buried. Your brother dug them up. Now they haunt me like ghosts, every night.”

“Your battle with Hela? The first one?”

She nodded. “It’s like I watch in in slow motion. Every blink, every scream, every drop of blood.”

He took her hand. “You have to stop drinking the wine and liquor here. It must be making it so much worse than it would be.”

“I can’t stop drinking. I think it’s a fundamental tenant of my personality at this point. It might be all I’ve got, really. At least reliably.” She rubbed her eyes. “Even if you’re probably right.”

“It’s not all you are.” She gave him a look and he repeated, “It’s _not_. And even it is, then we’ll just find things to replace it with. Go for a walk or a ride. Build something. Chop wood. I’m sure there’s no end of tasks.”

“I’m not sure all I am being manual labor is much of an improvement.”

“It’s just a start.” He studied her. “What would you like to be?”

“I don’t know. I was a warrior, there’s no use for that. I’m good at salvage, and capturing people. Though I had to drink pretty heavily to not care about the actual people I was capturing.” She pulled her knees up. “I have to drink pretty heavily to do anything. It’s how I made myself numb.”

He shifted and sat beside her, back against the bed. “Numb will do for a time. But eventually you have to mourn. And heal.”

“There was never any place in my life for that.” 

“You’re not there anymore. No gladiators or trash planet. This is a place of second chances, new starts.” He gestured to the room in general. “If Loki can be good and I can be a king, maybe you can find a purpose.”

She was quiet a long moment, then finally whispered, “It’s really hard.”

“I know.” He found her hand and squeezed it. “I want to help you.” He remembered feeling that way during his first trip to earth. Helpless, hopeless, useless. Something like that.

Valkyrie leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. She was quiet so long he wondered if she’d fallen back asleep. Then she asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

“I have. With a Midgardian woman.” He stroked his thumb along the back of her hand. “She helped me once, when I felt very much the way you do. When I thought I’d lost everything.”

“What happened?”

He sighed. “I tried to start a war with Jotunheim so my father took my hammer away and exiled me to Midgard without any powers. When I tried to get my hammer back I couldn’t lift it. Then Loki came and told me I was never allowed back.” He didn’t want to think about that part too hard. “It was a very bad time.”

“The woman? What happened to her?”

“Oh. We tried to make it work. Several times. But I had duties, both with the Avengers on Earth and as a protector of the other realms. She. . . she is brilliant. And she has a life on Earth. And we couldn’t find a way to sustain what we had.”

“That’s sad,” she said, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It happens. And I suppose it was doomed from the start. They have very short lives.”

“Being Asgardian is no guarantee of a long life,” she said. “Believe me.”

“That’s true.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “But we are here now.”

This time it made her smile. She was quiet again for a while. “I had a love. She was one of the Valkyries. We kept it quiet because she reported to me and there probably would have been a scandal.”

He nodded, suddenly understanding the different layers of her pain. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“She leapt between Hela and I. Her body fell on me and Hela thought she’d gotten us both. So I survived. Odin so expected Hela to kill us all that he never sent anyone to look for survivors.” She could barely keep her voice under control when she talked, though she tried to sound calm and clipped.

“Did you go to Sakaar immediately after?”

“I found somewhere to drink myself into oblivion, and then woke up on Sakaar.”

He nodded. “Until an idiotic prince dragged you out again?”

“Hey, I left of my own volition,” she insisted. “Though you’d have gotten yourself killed if I hadn’t.”

“I absolutely would have,” he agreed with a laugh. “Several times.”

“You’re welcome,” she said emphatically.

“Thank you,” he said. Then leaned in and kissed her cheek.

She turned, lifting a hand to touch his hair, and stroke down to his jaw. “I really am a disaster.”

“I think you’re less of one than you were a month ago.”

Slowly, she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m trying to warn you and I don’t think you’re taking me seriously.”

“I’m terrible at warning signs. Really. It’s better to give up.”

“Damnit,” she muttered, sounding both annoyed, and like she might cry.

He cupped the back of her head and drew her close, just holding her against his chest, head on his shoulder. Rubbing her back, he rocked her a little, the way he was sure no one had in a very long time. She wrapped her arms around him, and he could feel her clutching at the back of his shirt. He could hear her breath hitching like she might be crying. That would almost certainly embarrass her, so he just held her tighter and let her hide in his shirt.

After a while, he said quietly, “If you don’t want me, or my interest, say the word and I’ll never speak of it again. But if you’re just warning me off for my own good, I’m telling you now you’re worth the risk.”

Her arms tightened, and she whispered, “Stay.”

With a sigh of relief, he nodded and tugged her into his lap. She tucked her head under his chin. He could feel her relaxing—not falling asleep, but just settling in. Putting her guard down. He just held her and rubbed her back and let her feel safe. Eventually she said, “Brunnhilde.”

He startled a little. “I - what?”

“That was my name.”

“Oh.” He kissed her hair. “Hello, Brunnhilde.”

She leaned back to look at his face. “I want to be sober,” she said. “When we. . . I don’t want to be drunk.”

“I understand.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’m a very patient man.”

She turned her face into his palm, and wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Will you still stay?”

“Of course. As long as you like.”


	6. Chapter 6

Syn and Loki re-appeared in the hallway outside her quarters, as close as he’d ever gotten to her bed. She fumbled for the door handle and he backed her inside. With a flick of her fingers the door slammed shut and locked and the lamps lit.

Her bed was huge and plush, fit for a queen, and he pressed her up against one of the solid wooden posts to kiss her again. After a moment he lifted his head and asked, “How much do you like this dress?”

It took her a moment to actually process his words. “I. . . I like it but I’ll likely never wear it again. There’s grass stains -“

“I’m going to rip it,” he told her, more statement than question, but enough of a pause she could protest.

She was honestly surprised at the thrill of heat the thought of that sent through her. “Yes,” she said. “You should do that.”

A knife appeared in his hand, and he used it to slice the top of the fabric. It was gone before she could react with anything other than a surge of adrenaline. Then he grabbed both ends and tore the front of her dress clean in half. She hadn’t worn anything beneath it, the dress designed such that the lower layers had served as a bodice and shift for her.

It was possible she’d been planning this a tiny bit.

His eyes were dark as he studied her, face inscrutable. Then he lifted a hand and cupped her breast, the chill of his skin making the nipple pebble and tighten. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple and whispered, “Does that bother you?”

The shudder that went through her had nothing to do with the cold. “No,” she whispered back. “Not at all.”

“Good.” He skimmed his hands over her exposed skin, everything he could reach. It was an impossibly light touch.

He was annoyingly fully dressed. So she gestured and removed his jacket and shirt, sending them a few feet away to pile on the floor. Then she reached out to flatten her palms on his pale skin. It was cool, like his hands. He was really quite beautiful, though she doubted he’d want to be described like that. Before she could look more, he pulled her close again and kissed her mouth.

She melted a little, sliding a hand up into his hair again. There was nothing soft about him. Strong arms, hard chest, rough kiss. It was nice. She spent most of her life being strong and special and separate from everyone else. It was unspeakably good to have a man who didn’t care that she was a queen or a war hero or magic. He only cared that she was a woman who wanted him, just as he was. He carried her like she weighted nothing, setting her down gently on the bed and following her down. He traced his fingers down the side of her face, and he studied her like he couldn’t believe she was real. Maybe there was a little soft after all.

His next kiss was gentler, but still deep, curling her toes. He trailed down her jaw to her throat and she arched, tipping her head back to give him better access. His mouth moved down her body, following the path his hands had taken. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, she felt teeth.

She let out a sharp gasp that turned into a moan when he sucked again. His hands stroked her sides, soothing her as he moved from one breast to the other. His skin was still cool but his mouth felt as hot as any other man’s. The contrast seemed to make everything he did feel more intense. 

Eventually he left her breasts to move further down. He kissed her stomach gently, but she knew exactly where he was going. She opened her legs at his first light touch. He nudged them farther anyway, cupping her thighs to get her exactly as he wanted. The first brush of his mouth made her lids flutter shut. He tasted her with deliberate leisure. She’d expected this to be rough and fast and desperate, and he was content to just very slowly take her apart.

Tangling her hands in his hair, she tugged rather urgently but he ignored her. She had no hope of moving him if he didn’t want her to, especially when he slid a hand beneath her to tilt her more firmly into his mouth. She shuddered again, legs trembling and he made a little noise of approval, humming against her. She groaned his name.

He stroked her leg encouragingly, and all she could do was give in. She clenched and shuddered, letting the pleasure pour through her. Her hips lifted and he stroked her gently though it, drawing it out.

While she was drifting down from it, he must have crawled back up the bed, because he was stretched out next to her when she opened her eyes. Lifting a hand, she stroked his cheek, smiling fondly at him. “You,” she told him, “Have all kinds of magic.”

He looked very proud of himself. “I didn’t use any magic.”

She grinned. “I know.” Rolling towards him, she kissed him, waving a hand to rid him of his pants.

He laughed. “Okay, I approve of that.” He reached for her. “Come here.”

When she moved closer, he caught her leg, urging her to straddle him. She obeyed, about to make a joke about her having to do all the work now. Then she felt the hard length of him prodding at the sensitive entrance to her sex and all thought left her.

He pressed up and she eased down and then he was inside her, stretching and filling her. It had been long - too long - since she’d been with anyone and the feel of him took her breath away. He made an inarticulate noise and his fingers dug into her thighs. After a moment he growled, “Please move.”

Now came fast and rough and desperate. She rocked on him and he tugged at her hips and legs, shifting her angle and urging her into a faster rhythm. She’d thought only to bring him off - she’d already had her pleasure - but when his cool, nimble fingers found her clit, she felt the build of a second climax.

She braced her hands on his chest, drove herself down hard and let him push her over again, her nails pricking at his skin. He growled again, sliding his hands down to move her a little faster, until she felt his orgasm crash into hers.

Utterly drained, she slumped down onto his chest and buried her face in the curve where his throat met his shoulder. He turned his face towards her and whispered, “You are perfect.”

Her truthsense wanted her to tell him she loved him. Which was apparently true but way too soon. She fought it down, pressing a kiss into his skin. Then managed to reply, “So are you.”

The sounds of the dwindling festival drifted in through the open windows. They drifted for a bit, and then he said, “Happy Midsummer.”

Syn smiled, shifting to lay beside him, one arm slung over his waist. “Happy Midsummer, Loki.”

They fell asleep like that, tangled together and as relaxed as a person could be. He woke her around dawn with his hands and mouth on her skin, and they entertained themselves until the sun was fully up.

“Everyone sleeps till luncheon the day after Midsummer,” she assured him when he commented they’d be late for breakfast. She was sweaty and sticky and pleasantly sore. And as happy as she’d been in years. Possibly ever. “I was hoping to talk you into sharing a bath.”

He lifted his head. “That sounds like a very enjoyable activity.”

She caught the back of his neck and drew him down for a kiss. “You make me very happy,” she murmured.

“You make me happy, too. It’s a rather strange sensation.”

She imagined it was. “Don’t get overwhelmed by it and do something to ruin it,” she warned him. “I’ll see through it and be put out.”

He sighed. “I will try. Please be patient with me.”

“I will. I’m very patient. I waited this long for you.”

He grinned. “I wish I’d known that. I’ve wanted you since the day you told me you knew who I was.”

“I don’t know that I could have flirted with you any harder, darling.”

“In my defense it was only later I realized the blackmail was an attempt to get into my pants.”

Chuckling, she kissed him again and stretched, swinging her legs out from under the covers. “Probably better this way. You’re a bit more. . . mellow than you were.”

He watched her a moment, eyes moving over her as she got out of bed. “I’m not as angry. As I used to be.”

“That’s good. Anger is toxic.” She strolled to the bathroom and waved a hand to turn the water on. If he was going to look at her like that she would happily wander around naked for him.

He followed her, not bothering to put anything on himself. He braced his arms on the top of the doorframe, apparently to stretch. “I’m not a good person when angry. Or. . . hurt. I don’t care who I hurt back.”

It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was saying when he did things like that. Still, he was having a moment of self-awareness, she probably shouldn’t let herself get too distracted by the sexy. “I once started a revolution when hurt and angry. Anyone who got both of us on their bad side should watch out.”

“Hopefully they’ll deserve it.” He came over and sat on the edge of the tub. “Odin told me about my misbegotten origins, and then proceeded to lapse into a coma. I wanted—needed to hurt someone, and since he was unconscious, I turned on Thor instead.”

She rummaged in her cabinets, looking for salt that would soften the water and ease some of her aches. “I can see how he would be a convenient target.” He had told her very little of what had led to him playacting as Odin. She knew some of it from realm gossip and Sif’s stories. “Do you know when you stopped being mad?”

“At Odin?” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “He died.”

Having him and Thor here and mourning really had cut down on her ability to celebrate that particular fact. She found the salt and brought it over to toss into the rising water. “Did you get closure?”

“I guess I did. He called me his son. Told me my mother would have been proud of my magic.” His shoulders hunched. “Of course, the last thing I said to her before she died was to tell her she wasn’t my mother.”

She stood in front of him, and stroked his hair off his face. “Everything I know about your mother tells me she knew you didn’t mean that.”

He looked up at her. “I can only hope.” He stood up, cupping her cheek in his palm. “I love that if I lie to you like that, in anger, you won’t believe me.”

“Never,” she promised. She let her gaze wander him again, unable to resist. “You really are beautiful. Like something carved from marble.”

He kissed her. “You are also gorgeous. Clearly we belong together.”

“Clearly.” His hands were starting to wander. “Mmm, the bath is ready. At least let me soak a bit before your ravish me again.”

“We could combine the soaking and the ravishing, you know.”

“That is also entirely acceptable.”

It was very close to noon when Hilde knocked on her door to tell her brunch was being laid out in the dining room. They walked down with her hand tucked into his elbow, and they didn’t let go until they had to part to get their food.

Thor was at the table already, looking nearly finished with his food and reading a newspaper. Heimdal was drinking a large mug of tea and looking like he’d had far too much wine the night before. The morning after Midsummer was like that for a lot of people.

Bruce was at the buffet getting food. And he was. . . whistling?

All of them stopped and stared as he strolled back to the table with his overfull plate.

“What?” he asked, mouth full when he noticed the attention.

“I’ve never seen you. . . happy?” Thor said.

He swallowed. “Midsummer is a great festival.”

Syn paused to peer at him as she passed. “You have a hickey.”

He flushed and fiddled with his collar as Thor laughed. “Was it the lovely blonde lady I saw you with last night?” Thor asked.

“Her name is Muir. She’s one of the historians I’ve been talking to.”

“She didn’t wrap anything around your wrist did she?” Syn asked, sitting in her chair. “You might be married.”

He laughed. “You know I can’t say I’d mind.” The most adorable thing about that was that Syn could tell he meant it.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my realm,” she told him sincerely, sipping her tea.

“Sounds like everyone had themselves a proper Midsummer,” Loki said. He looked over at his brother. “How about you?”

“It was a lovely festival,” he replied noncommittally.

Loki’s eyebrows went up and he sighed. “Seriously? You couldn’t manage to seal the deal?”

“It’s none of your business how I spent my evening, Loki.”

“This from the man who once insisted he could bed any woman in—“ Loki broke off because Valkyrie came into the room. At least he had some manners. Syn had been about to remind him not to overcompensate for their wonderful night by being a jerk.

Valkyrie looked at the two of them, frowned a moment, then changed course so she could pass behind Thor’s chair. As she went she reached out and ran one hand across his shoulders, a small, intimate, and faintly possessive gesture—and one that clearly surprised him. Then she grabbed a piece of fruit and proceeded to a seat at the other side of the table. She leaned back in her chair languidly, took a bite, and said, “Your Majesty, some of the furniture in my bedroom was. . .broken last night. Who do I talk to about that?”

Syn smiled, mostly at Loki’s expression, but a bit at the absolute _style_ Valkyrie had. “I’ll talk to Hilde about it, she’ll send someone to inspect it at your leisure.”

She grinned around her mouthful of fruit. “Midsummer is a fabulous holiday.”

“I quite agree.” She picked up her knife to spread butter on a muffin. “Close your mouth, Loki, darling, you’ll catch flies.”

*

Not wanting to spend the afternoon just lounging around, and wanting to do something other than drink, Valkyrie went to her planning room to work on some of the drawings. Thor stuck his head in an hour or so later.

“Hey.” He came to the end of the table. “I just wanted to. . . you didn’t have imply we slept together just to shut Loki up.”

She smiled at him. “You know we did, technically, sleep together. I remember there being sleeping.” Warm, peaceful, deep sleep devoid of nightmares. 

He blushed a little. “I know technically. . . but you still. . . didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t have to sneak out at dawn,” she came back with. He seemed adorably concerned with. . . her reputation? It was sweet and kind of funny, given the number of years she’d spent blindly fucking anyone of either gender who smiled in her direction.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Mornings can be awkward. Even when it’s only sleeping.”

“I don’t care what Loki thinks of us,” she said, getting up and coming around the table. She reached up to touch the edge of his eye patch. She’d had to convince him to take it off last night so he wouldn’t have to sleep in it. At the time she’d made a light comment about having seen it when it was new and gross, but she knew it wasn’t nothing that he’d taken it off. “Honestly, I’ve had a lot of sex that was less intimate than last night.”

He smiled faintly, and covered her hand with his. “As have I.”

She hesitated a moment, and then decided she’d made a public declaration, more or less, so there was not reason not to. Leaning up, she kissed him on the mouth. He sighed softly and slid and arm around her waist, kissing her back. She tucked her hand behind the back of his neck, holding on as the heat in the kiss ratcheted upwards.

He groaned a bit, when they parted. “That was very much worth the wait.”

She felt a little stunned, and the first thing that popped into her head fell right out of her mouth. “I am so, so sorry they cut off your hair.”

It seemed to startle him, then he laughed. “Because you’d like a handle?”

She laughed, too. “Among other things. Draping over us. Spread out on a pillow. I have a soft spot.” 

“I promise, I’m growing it back.” He stroked an errant lock of her hair off. “You have beautiful hair.”

It was such an honest compliment it warmed her. “Thank you.”

“It was very nice spread out on your pillow at dawn,” he added with an almost sly smile. 

“Mmm. Then we should do that again soon.”

“Anytime you wish, my lady.”

“Soon,” she told him seriously. “I promise.”

He nodded. “Of course. At your speed, I promise.”

That night, she lay awake a long time, thinking about nice it had been to have her next to him. And also how much she hated the nightmares. Thor was probably right, that she needed to feel things in order to heal. But the nightmares were making it more than she could bear. And that made her drink more. Which made the nightmares worse.

The only alcohol here without blade fruit in it was ale, and she couldn’t drink enough of that for even a buzz. Her options, if she wanted the nightmares to stop, was to either build a still and experiment, or go sober.

In the morning, she emptied all her bottles down the bathtub drain. She was a little embarrassed just how _many_ there were. Clearly, it was time.

She didn’t want anyone to fuss, so she didn’t tell anyone. That first day she felt pretty terrible, enough that it was obvious to others. She just said she was hungover—which wasn’t technically a lie. She avoided making eye contact with Thor.

That evening she argued with him through the door about how she really wasn’t hungry, and was going to bed early. Feeling nauseous, she passed out just after sundown. 

Then the nightmares started. This time they didn’t stop.

*

Jumbled scenes gave way to still darkness. She could hear voices, but she couldn’t place them. Couldn’t tell if they were real.

“I’ve seen drunk. This isn’t drunk.”

“Did you see how many empty bottles were in the trash?”

“For once in your life, can you cooperate and just go get Syn?”

He sounded worried. She didn’t want him to worry, whomever he was. She didn’t remember anything anymore.

*

Hela threw her endless supply of swords. The animals screamed when hit, but the people didn’t. If Valkyrie screamed, no sound came out.

*

“You have to be weaned off it. Watched by healers. This kills people.”

“She didn’t exactly tell me she was going to do it!”

The woman was worried. The man was afraid.

Things faded in and out. There was more talking. Someone touched her and she tried to fight them off, but her arms wouldn’t entirely cooperate. That terrified her and she fought harder.

Strong arms held her still against a broad chest. “Shh,” the man rumbled in her ear. “Let her help.”

She trusted him. She felt a warm glow, and then peace.

*

She’d spent the night in a pile of bodies, waiting to die. Wanting to die. Help never came and neither did death. Anger got her moving. She’d watch Asgard burn one day.

*

Her body shook, but she couldn’t control it. The man was holding her, but she couldn’t feel his voice. The glow returned, and the shaking stopped.

*

Vomiting was undignified, but she didn’t seem to have a say in the matter. Someone was holding her hair back. She wanted to thank them, or tell them to go away. She didn’t want the darkness to come back, but it did.

*

In her dreams she floated in the ocean. It was sometimes sunny and warm, and sometimes dark and stormy. Why thunderstorms felt fond to her, she didn’t know.

Partially awake she was floating in a bathtub. The bubbles smelled good.

The man was leaning over her. She thought she might remember his name if she tried hard enough. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled. “Are you awake?”

Memory from one of her dreams drifted forth. “You fought a giant,” she told him. “He was green.”

“I did,” he replied, sounding calm. “I won.”

“I believe you,” she said, and floated back to the ocean.

*

She’d said the prayer alone, for the Valkyrior. She’d say it with a chorus, for her home. She didn’t want to be in the darkness anymore. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted Valhalla, or the man with the rumbling voice.

*

“She’s mumbling the funeral prayer, should I be worried?”

The woman sounded tired. “That’s the most coherent thing she’s said in a week, I consider it improvement.”

“She said it on the ship,” the man said quietly. “When I couldn’t.”

“We don’t use that prayer. But I’ve always liked it. It’s very Asgardian.”

*

She didn’t want to die. It was as simple as that.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunlight was pouring through the windows when Valkyrie opened her eyes. It was a warm summer’s day, and there was a little bit of a breeze rustling the curtains. She had a headache and felt like she’d been to war.

She turned her head to see Thor asleep, slumped in a chair beside the bed. She could just reach out to touch him, so she did.

He jumped at the touch, eyes opening. When he saw her eyes were open and she was reaching out he smiled and caught her hand. “Hello.”

“Why. . . what happened?” Her voice was scratchy and sounded foreign.

“Apparently, you’re not supposed to stop drinking as abruptly as you did. At least not if you’ve been drinking as much as you had been.” He moved off the chair and perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s been almost ten days since I found you in here unconscious.”

That was a long time to be unconscious. “I figured it would suck, but I thought I could handle it.”

“You almost died,” he said quietly. “If it wasn’t for Syn. . .”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. Tell her I’m sorry.”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll be in soon.” With a gentle hand, he stroked her hair. “How do you feel now?”

“Terrible,” she answered honestly. “Alive.”

“That’s the best we can hope for, I think.”

She squinted one eye open. “I puked on you, didn’t I?”

“Many times,” he said with a smile. “Loki once, too, if that makes you feel better.”

Embarrassment filled her down to her toes. “I am so, so sorry.”

He actually laughed a bit. “It’s all right. Really. I am. . . so glad you’re awake.”

“I could hear your voice,” she said quietly. “Wherever I was.” He’d been here the entire time. She was sure of that. He probably hadn’t left this room much in ten days. Or at all, from the look of him.

“I did talk to you, when I could. My mother once told me that people could hear your voice when they slept, no matter how deep.”

“You took me to the bath.” Apparently, he’d seen and handled her naked. So much for the vestiges of romance. “Told me you beat the Hulk. Which is bullshit.”

“No, you believed me. Must be true.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Sadly I don’t recall any teary speech where you try and convince me not to die and leave you on this cold cruel world.”

“I resisted histrionics. Concerned you’d die just to get away from them.”

“Nonsense, I love a good melodrama. Wailing, rending of garments, etc. Put your back into it, man.”

“I’m a bit tired, but perhaps after a proper night’s sleep I can whip up a lament and a hairshirt.”

That was an understatement. He looked like he was barely upright. “Lay down with me?”

He damn near swayed, but still he said, “Are you sure?”

She scooted back as best she could, and lifted the blanket. She was so weak it felt like a monumental task, but refused to let that show on her face. He sighed and fell as much as anything else, climbing into the bed with her and curling an arm around her. She snuggled her back against his chest, and rested hers over his at her waist. 

“Thank you,” she told him. “I may owe you until the end of time.”

“I hope we’re both around that long,” he murmured into her hair.

“I’m terrified of the favors you’ll come up with.”

There was a pause and he shook his head. “No. I’m too tired. All the jokes I can think of are dirty.”

“You’re welcome to. You’ve already seen me naked. I’m fairly confident I’m going to wake up from this nap with a hard on poking me in the arse cheek. We can’t get much more familiar at this point.” 

“The vomit turned down the arousal a teeny bit,” he admitted.

She closed her eyes, feeling like she could lay here like this for the rest of eternity. “Pity. Other favors won’t me nearly as fun.”

“Perhaps we’ll think of a variety. Fun and not.”

She sighed, feeling sleep tug her. He’d keep her safe from anything. “I am at your service. As soon as I can move.”

“Get some rest,” he told her, kissing her hair. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

She couldn’t do much more than nod as she drifted off.

*

It was an awful week.

Loki had seen Syn heal people before, and he knew it took a lot of energy. But they were single moments. He’d never seen her try to keep someone alive whose body was trying doggedly to kill them.

There were other healers they could have brought in, ones with better training in this sort of thing. There were none with stronger magic, though. Thor was beside himself and Syn clearly had a fondness for Valkyrie. So she did it all herself, though it damn near burnt her out too.

Hilde began to come to him with questions. Nothing hugely important or policy changing. But there were always decisions to be made and tasks to be assigned and for the moment, he was the closet thing to a second-in-command they had.

Towards the end, she could rely on more mundane methods for the healing. The pile of herbs and medicines lining Valkyrie’s night table grew and it seemed like every time Loki ventured in Syn was shoving something vile down the other woman’s throat.

“You should eat,” he said, touching her back. He’d had less success getting Thor to eat much, but Syn expended too much energy to skip so much as a snack. “I have it waiting in our rooms.” He wasn’t formally living with her, but she’d been camped out with him for the week because he was down the hall.

She watched Valkyrie breathe a moment, then touched her forehead and nodded. “All right,” she said finally. “She’s sleeping normally.” She started to stand and swayed, grabbing at his arm. 

He pulled her closer. “If you’re fishing to be carried like a bride, you have only to ask.”

Her chuckle was weak, but she nuzzled at his neck. “I suppose you could haul me over your shoulder like a sack of root vegetables.”

“Now where’s the romance in that?” He lifted a hand to his brother, who was just coming out of the bathroom, and guided Syn out into the hall. She was unsteady on her feet, so he did, in   
fact, scoop her up like a bride and carry her to the room they were sharing.

She sighed deeply and curled an arm around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “This is nice. I shall have you carry me like this everywhere.”

“It would be my honor, your majesty.”

He set her down on the chair next to the table he’d had the servants set the dinner on. She scrubbed both hands over her face and picked up her tea cup, sipping it. She smiled. “Did you put the honey in?”

It was good to see her smile. “See, I can learn.”

“You can.” She drank a little more, then picked up her utensils to dig into the meal. “How many days have I been at this? I’ve lost track.”

“Nine.” It was not how he expected to spend this week. At all.

“By the tree,” she muttered. She ate a moment. “She should be safe now, though. The last of it will have left her system by now.”

“Thor told me she was praying yesterday.”

“Yes. She was mumbling the Asgardian funeral prayer. Over and over. It was a little eerie.”

“But you feel confident at this point she’s not going to die?”

She rolled her head, stretching her neck, first one way, then the other. “Reasonably confident, yes.”

“Good,” he said. “I really don’t think he’d be ok if she did.”

“No,” she agreed. “I don’t think so either. There comes a time when you simply can’t bear to lose anything else.”

“I think we all felt like midsummer was the tide turning on the river of shit.”

“There is always more shit.” She ate the last few bites of her supper and stood, now a bit stronger on her feet. Peeling off the simple shift dress she wore, she staggered over to the bed and stretched out on it.

He followed, and sat next to her. “You want me to rub your back?”

She peeked at him through one cracked lid, as if trying to ascertain if he had ulterior motives. Apparently deciding he didn’t - or that she didn’t care - she closed her eyes and nodded. “Please.”

He nodded, and got some oil. Once he put some on his hands and her skin, he began digging his fingers into the knots in her muscles. It was just a massage, nothing further, but he’d still enjoy it. And enjoy the casual intimacy that let him do it.

She damn near purred at the treatment, relaxing and softening under his ministrations. “I do love your hands,” she murmured.

He ran his thumbs up her spine. “They are at your disposal.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed a bit longer, cupping and kneading the back of her shoulders. Then she shifted and lifted an arm. “Lay with me.”

That meant she wanted to use him as a pillow, which was fine by him. He shifted her so she could tuck against his chest—though she made him sit up and take his shirt off.

“You’re going to be very handy next time I have a fever,” she murmured, cuddling close.

“You don’t find it creepy?” he asked.

Her fingers traced little patterns on his chest. “No. It’s how you are. Under certain circumstances it’s rather. . . exhilarating.” She tipped her head back to look at him. “I imagine I feel hot to you all the time.”

He shook his head. “Warm. Comforting.” It had been little more than a week, and the weight of her on his chest had become one of his favorite feelings.

She smiled and yawned, tucking herself back against him. “I’ve always preferred a cool pillow. You are by far the best I’ve ever had.” The best part - better than her words alone - was his ability to be absolutely certain she was telling him the truth.

He kissed the top of her head. “I will happily do this as long as you want me to.”

“Good,” she mumbled, sounding half asleep already. “I want to keep you.”

“I want to stay,” he whispered, more longing in his voice than he meant to allow.

They woke in the morning to find Valkyrie had woken and seemed to have turned the corner. Syn gave her and Thor a list of instructions and then tried to go back to work as queen. Loki ended up joining forces with Hilde to get her to “take ill” and sleep for another day or two.

He found himself outside her chambers with Hilde, getting an update on the building of Asgard Village.

“You should rest too,” the secretary told him. “If nothing else to keep an eye on her. She thinks she’s invincible. When our Da got sick she did this, staying up all night wearing herself out. Damn near killed herself trying to save him.”

That was his girl. “I’ll look after her, I promise.”

She nodded and made a note on her board. Had that been on her checklist? “What are we calling you?” She asked. “Consort?”

He blinked at her. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re sharing her bed, taking care of her when ill and making decisions in her absence. It’s been noticed. We’re not as conservative as Vanaheim or the like, no one will be clamoring for a wedding, but we really should give you a title or some sort.”

Title. Titles meant power. Something dark stirred inside him.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to discuss that with her.”

Another little note. “All right. I’ll keep the wolves at bay another day. Let me know if you need anything.”

Hilde went off down the hall, and he let himself back inside. Her rooms were much, _much_ nicer than his, so he was happy they’d moved. Funny how they’d moved together, and never even considered otherwise.

Syn was sitting in bed, in the nightgown and robe Hilde had forced her into. They were both pink and silky. The robe appeared to have feathers on all the hems. Sometimes he didn’t blame Thor for his misconceptions about her. Her clothes were, at times, ridiculous.

When she saw him, she crossed her arms and pouted like a toddler. “I’m not tired.”

He sat down next to her and sighed. “You don’t have to sleep, we just want you to rest.”

“I’m not good at being idle.” She rested her head on his shoulder, though, and uncrossed her arms.

Loki looked over at her. “You could help me sort something out. While resting.”

That perked her up. “All right. I do like solving your problems. They’re usually very complicated.”

“Hilde told me I needed a title. That I was acting as your representative. And the first thing I thought, the very first, was ‘Wow, I am in a great position to stage a coup d’etat’. Why is that the first place my mind goes?”

She chuckled a little, which wasn’t the expected reaction to someone admitting they’d just considered overthrowing your rule. “Well, it is true.” She ran her hand down his arm, stroking lightly. “I think you were taught - by your father and by the way Asgard was run - that there is only one type of power. It’s only being at the top of the heap, holding all the cards and peering down at everyone you’ve beaten along the way. That’s the kind of power Asgard respected, and certainly as a child, it’s the kind that would have made the most sense.” She looked at him. “You need to start seeing all the other ways to have power.”

“I have thought about that from time to time. If our lives had gone a different way. If I’d possessed the patience and forethought to just. . . help Thor rule.” He looked over at her. “My whole childhood, we were told one of us would be king. He never specified who. Thor assumed he would choose whomever was the best or the bravest, and I though we’d have to fight it out. I don’t know if my mind is just twisted or if I simply could always see the kind of person Odin was with clearer eyes. But from as long as I can remember, I assumed I’d have to fight my brother to the death one day.”

“At the risk of giving Odin any sort of benefit of the doubt, it’s possible that he simply saw the kind of person Thor would become. And realized it was possible he would die in battle before he could take the crown.” She smiled. “Or maybe he planned to betroth you to me so you could rule Alfheim! Wouldn’t that have solved everyone’s problems?”

He chuckled. “That certainly would have been better than the Steward.”

“It would have been nice to skip the childhood in exile and messy revolution,” she admitted.

“I just think, if Odin had been honest. . .That Thor was the eldest, and the throne was his by default. Or whatever. Maybe I’d have expected what he expected, and I hadn’t considered. That he would rule and I would be his right hand man. Second most powerful person in Asgard is not exactly a gloomy life outcome.”

“It’s not.” She stroked his jaw, tucking some hair behind his ear. “Loki, darling, I’m about to speak ill of the dead, and I am sorry. But I do think Odin was a bit of a terrible father.”

“Oh, I don’t dispute that. He used his first child as a weapon, and then locked her away when he couldn’t control her.”

She was now playing with his hair, twirling it around her fingers. “Thank you for not planning a coup d’etat.”

“I would lose you, and it wouldn’t be worth it,” he replied, the only honest answer he could think of.

“Ah, Loki.” She kissed his cheek and leaned on him again. “Hilde is right, though. We probably should decide what to call you when people start fussing.”

“Emperor is probably a bit much, isn’t it?”

“I was thinking more royal mistress.”

His mouth opened and closed. “No.”

She laughed, a sound dangerously close to a giggle. “In that case, we may have to go with something utterly mundane. Advisor, perhaps. Or Vizier. That sounds vaguely ominous, you should like that.”

“I like it. Hilde suggested Consort. I suppose since we are. . .” He gestured at the bed. “Consorting.”

Her mouth twisted. “Mmm. Hilde is hinting. Consort is usually after a betrothal.” She held up a finger. “I am _not_ hinting.”

He chuckled. “No need to get ahead of ourselves. Advisor sounds nice and neutral.”

She nodded. “It will also frustrate anyone nosy enough to be asking questions. Which pleases me.”

“Hilde seemed to think the gossip was already rampant.”

“I’m not entirely surprised. It’s not like I take foreign dignitaries into my bed on a regular basis.” She blew out a breath. “Oh, Eion is going to have a field day with that.”

He was quiet a moment, then offered, “You want me to kill him?” He was only half joking.

“Oh, it’s so tempting,” she muttered under her breath. “No. I’ll handle it. My agents tell me the general populace is fairly pro-Asgard, especially after Midsummer. I’m hoping the means the gossip will be positive.”

“Maybe they’ll see it as a sign of your dominance.”

She grinned. “Oh, I like that.” Pressing closer, she nuzzled just under his ear. “Exactly how much resting must I do?”

He groaned, summoning self control from. . .somewhere. “I refuse to ravish you until you’ve had at least one good night’s sleep.”

“I slept last night,” she murmured. Oh, now he felt teeth. “I remember distinctly, there was a very nice pillow.”

“You need your rest,” he told her, sounding less convincing than he wanted. Her hand was under his shirt, now.

“I’m not tired.” If she moved any closer she’d be in his lap. “Can you think of some way to. . . tire me out?”

He groaned, turning towards her. It had been a long, long week, and they’d had no time or energy for exploring their new relationship. “All right, dear heart, but just once. Then you’re going right to sleep.”

Clearly seeing she’d won, she slipped her hand into his hair and drew him down. “Yes, sir, Advisor.”

*

For a couple of days, Valkyrie let Thor sleep in her bed. It was probably for the best, she was very weak, and he wouldn’t have slept well leaving her alone. She seemed to have some bad dreams, still, but there was no screaming. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said one night, trying to get her back to sleep after one. She like him to talk, said she found his voice soothing.

“Mmm?”

“Do you want me to use your name? You seem sort of secretive about it. Is it a secret?”

She laughed a little. “No, no. I would answer to it if you called it, but. . . When I told you to call me Valkyrie I decided it was a label you could use, like the other labels I’d been given. But if I’m honest, I don’t think I even am Brunnhilde anymore. I think Hela killed her.”

He stroked her hair, gently picking out a tangle. “I understand that. I will call you Valkyrie, if you prefer it.”

“I do. I am the last one. It feel less like a label and more like. . . an honorific.” She paused, then said. “I will allow you one nickname. Choose wisely.”

He chuckled. “I’ll have to give it some thought. I’m not good with nicknames.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Indeed we do.” He kissed her shoulder, sighing softly. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are now.”

“At this moment, so do I.” She sighed. “But I do think I am well enough to care for myself now.”

“Is that your subtle hint for me to leave your bed?”

“I love this right now. But I do need to learn to be able to fall asleep alone. I don’t want to substitute you for drinking.”

That was probably a good point. He didn’t want to be her new addiction. “Do you want me to go now?”

She chuckled. “I’m not kicking you out of a warm bed in the middle of the night.”

“See? You’re a very nice person. I like you.”

He could hear her make a happy hum as she fell asleep. 

The next night he slept in his own bed. He slept long and hard and uninterrupted, finally understanding just how utterly exhausted he was. In the morning he had a hearty meal, and discovered that during all of this, Heimdall and Sif had looked after the camps and kept the village construction on schedule. . .and Loki seemed to be running Alfheim. Peacefully.

“Admit it,” he said to his brother as they watched the workers at the village. “This is all some sort of illusion. You’ve taken over and started a war.”

“Nonsense. I’m a changed man.”

Thor glanced at him. “Did you get married when I was busy?”

He laughed. “No, nothing like that.” He had moved into the Queen’s chambers, though. Everyone had noticed that.

“She’s good for you,” Thor commented, looking out at the village again. “Never thought I’d see the day, us working together on something like this.” He paused. “Mother would be beside herself.”

That made him smile. “I think she’d be proud.”

“Once she got over her shock and checked us both for weapons.”

He was quiet a moment, then said, “I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask which time. Seemed rude, though. “I forgive you,” he said instead, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

“I don’t know that I deserve it, but thank you.” 

Thor shrugged. “This place. . . it’s a new start. A new life. I’m willing to let the past die.” He glanced at him. “It you try it _again_ . . .”

“The line forms at the left. Your girl is faster than you, she’ll get me first.”

“She likes me, she’ll leave me a blow or two.”

“I believe it. And she actually didn’t technically promise to kill me, just torture me until I begged for death.”

By the tree that woman got more attractive all the time. “Perhaps your woman will protect you.”

“I think she’ll be in the line.”

Thor laughed and clapped him on the shoulder again. “Today is a good day, brother.”

“That it is.”


	8. Chapter 8

The frantic pace of work at the village kept him busy. Summer was marching on, and they had a lot to do. Valkyrie seemed to be avoiding him, avoiding everyone, really. He warred with himself, over giving her her space, and not wanting to leave her completely alone. And he just. . . missed her.

“She’s not drinking,” Heimdal said to him one evening after dinner. “I can tell you that.”

“That’s a relief.” And it was. He didn’t think she’d start again, not after the mess quitting had been. But the worry had nagged. “I just wish she’d talk to me.”

“We all process things differently.” Heimdal patted him on the shoulder. “She will come back to you when she is ready.”

He nodded. “We have all been busy. Things. . . take time.”

“I will tell you if there’s something to be told, I promise.”

“Thank you, my friend.” He thought that might be cheating. But when your friend was all-seeing it was hard no to take advantage of it now and then.

It still felt as though they were at odds, and it felt strangely conspicuous. As if everyone knew something had happened, but no one wanted to ask. Neither of them seemed to want to bring down anyone else’s moods in what seemed to be a post-Midsummer love fest. He was happy for his brother and Syn, but he sometimes wished they’d stop holding hands under the dinner table. Bruce’s girlfriend joined them for meals sometimes. Even Sif had apparently taken a lover.

He briefly entertained the thought of having Syn or Sif ask her what was wrong on his behalf. Then he reminded himself he wasn’t the god of cowards and went to knock on her door.

“I didn’t skip dinner,” she said when she opened the door.

“You did not,” he agreed. After a pause he asked, “Have I offended you?”

She stepped back. “No, of course not.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She blew out a breath. “I’m trying to sort my head out.”

“I don’t want to complicate things. Or push you. But I feel like you’ve shut me out entirely.”

Valkyrie rubbed her eyes. “I just. . .I don’t know how to do this. And you can’t help. I don’t know if you can even understand.”

“I can try,” he said softly.

“Can you? You bounce back from everything and land on your feet.” 

“I assure you, it never feels like that at the time.”

She paced a little restlessly around her bed. “I just want to be alone. I promise I am not drinking.”

“I trust you,” he assured her. He felt helpless and he hated that feeling. But it seemed his presence seemed to agitate her. “Will you promise to tell me if you do need my help?”

“I promise,” she replied, though he wasn’t sure he believed her.

“All right,” he said, stifling a sigh. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

The next day he saw almost none of her—she didn’t even come down to work on the village. Now she really was avoiding him. The only time he saw her at all, she was having what looked like a serious conversation with the captain of Syn’s guard.

And then in the middle of the night, she knocked on his door.

“Has something happened?” It was the only reason he could think of that she’d appear at his door.

She twisted her hands together. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped back and held the door open for her, closing it behind her. “Are you well?”

“I am well, but I’m also a jerk.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that. “Okay.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to come say I was sorry.”

“Do you want to sit?” he asked, gesturing to the bed.

He could see her hem and haw for a moment, then she sat, folding her legs up under her. “I went to a dinner party for former drunks.”

His brows lifted and he perched at the opposite end of the bed from her. “I did not know that was a thing.”

“Apparently. The Captain of the Royal Guard told me about it. I’d never met him before and it was a weird conversation. But apparently there aren’t many secrets in the palace. The had a revolution here not too many years ago. I’m not the only warrior to try and drink their nightmares away.”

“Did they help you?”

“I think so. They say it takes a while. Not something I can sort out myself in a week.”

He smiled. “Much as you might try.”

“Apparently even I can be wrong once in a while.” She lifted her eyes. The moonlight falling across her face made her look young. Maybe like she’d been before war hardened her. “Anyway, I’m sorry. After everything you did for me, I shouldn’t have been like that.” She frowned. “I should probably apologize for knocking at this hour, too. It could have waited until morning.”

Reaching out, he smoothed some of her hair back. “I forgive you. For both things.”

“You do a lot of forgiving,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“A surprising amount the last few weeks. I don’t know why.”

“The why is because you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. I don’t know how it hasn’t gotten you killed, other than you’re very lucky.”

“People confuse kindness with weakness. Or stupidity. I’m neither. But it costs me nothing to be kind. And to try to believe the best in people.”

She watched him like she could see through him. “I think it’s cost you plenty. And you do it anyway.”

Maybe she was right. He thought it had given him just as much. Good friends. His brother back. A new home. “The other option is unacceptable.”

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. . . but you know, you are nothing like your father.”

Very recently, he would have taken that as an insult. Now it made him a little sad to know what a compliment it was. He reached out and took her hand. “Thank you.”

She held his hand in both of hers, and then lifted it up to kiss knuckles, like he often did to hers. He smiled and gave her a little tug, pulling her close enough to kiss her mouth. She opened her mouth to his, and crawled closer until she was in his lap.

He tucked his arms around her, holding her to him, as the kiss deepened and took off. He’d been a little concerned his memory of their kiss had been exaggerated in his mind. But this was just as intense as he recalled. When they parted for air, she whispered, “Are you tired?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not at all. Not even a little bit.”

She laughed, and she kissed him again. “Clearly I have my work cut out for me.”

He twined his fingers through her hair. “You’re up to the challenge.”

“We’ll find out,” she replied, leaning back far enough to pull her tunic up over her head.

For a moment he held her back, just to enjoy looking at her. He adored everything about her, the smooth, warm color of her skin. The ripple of muscle underneath. She was even more perfect than he’d pictured her.

“What?” she whispered, sounding a little self-conscious at the length of the stare. She was very careful, he’d noticed, to never show any fear or any weakness, except with him.

“You are beautiful,” he told her, voice reverent.

She grinned. “I’m glad you agree.”

Of course, the moments of weakness never lasted. He leaned in and kissed her again, then dropped a kiss on her shoulder, breathing in her scent. She nuzzled his ear and her body pressed against his, bare skin to bare skin. “I want you so much,” she murmured.

He kissed her throat, stroking his hands down her sides, cupping her hips and waist. Tipping her back, he laid her down on the bed, following her down. She lifted her head to kiss him, and her hips to wiggle out of her leggings. Then she was naked, and entirely his.

He took his time, exploring her with his hands and mouth. He trailed kisses along her little scars, buried his face between her breasts. When she was panting and cursing at him, he kneeled between her legs and brought his mouth to her center. She got a good enough grip on his hair, short though it was. Enough to show him what she liked and what she didn’t, as if the sounds she made weren’t enough.

With a reaction like that, he was quite content to stay there all night. When the grip in his hair grew painful, he slipped two fingers into her heat, adding their stroking to his teasing. She let go of his hair, and then she gasped and her body bowed, lifting off the bed as she began to shake. For that, though, she didn’t make a sound.

He stroked her as it passed, then lifted his head, grinning, as he waited for her to come down. She’d flung her arms back over her head, but after a moment she lifted them so she could clap.

Laughing, he climbed up to stretch beside her, leaving a smacking kiss on her belly. “My work here is done.”

“Mmm, men are usually subpar at that, thumbs up.” She stretched languidly. “I want to make some kind of ‘God of Thunder’ joke right now, but my brain is mush.”

He kissed her shoulder. “You can save it for later, if you think of something.”

“We’ll have lots of time for joking,” she murmured.

“We’re very good at it.” He ran a hand down her leg, tugging it. She turned her body so she could wrap it around him like he wanted. He was particularly impressed she hooked her toe into the waistband of his shorts and just shoved them down. A bit of kicking on his part got them farther down.

Then he wrapped his hands around her hips and tugged her closer, tilting her at just the right angle to slid inside her. She made one of those desperate, erotic sounds again. When she kissed him, she sucked his lower lip between her teeth and whispered, “I like it a little rough.”

“Anything the lady wishes,” he murmured, keeping his grip on her hips. The position wasn’t the best for moving, but he managed it, thrusting, slow at first, then faster as she grew slicker and hotter around him. 

Her nails bit into his skin and scraped down his back. The little flare of pain was hotter than he expected. It had been a long time she he was with a woman strong enough to hurt him. “Harder,” she growled.

Rolling them, he pinned her beneath him and shifted her legs up, getting enough leverage to move properly. He braced himself above her and moved, hard and fast as he could. This time, she did scream when she came.

He grinned, even as his own climax swept through him. He buried himself as deep as he could, shuddering with his release.

The world got blurry for a little bit, and as they drifted she rubbed his back, the way he always rubbed hers. He was crushing her into the bed, not that she was complaining. But he kissed her head and eased off of her, stretching out on the bed beside her.

She turned a little, looking up at him. Her eyes searched his face, and grinned a wide, genuine smile. He actually wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look that happy. “Hi.”

“Hello. Fancy seeing you here.”

She kissed him with a great deal of tenderness, then rolled over and tucked her body into his, her back to his chest, like they’d sleep while she was recovering. He pulled the blankets up over them and then she said, “Rescuing you from that mob on Sakaar might be the best thing I ever did.”

“You are the most attractive person to kidnap me, I’ll say that.”

She laughed. “I intend to retain that title, so I will protect you from future kidnappers.”

Nuzzling her hair, he cuddled her closer. “Good.”

“Thank you for putting up with me,” she said. “For. . . everything.”

“It was my pleasure. And totally worth it.” At that she made a humming noise and contented sigh. For the moment, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely at peace.

*

In early autumn, Syn took a trip to the north to check on some of her more far flung counties. It was nearing harvest time and the roads were lined with trees splashed in red and gold. She’d wanted to invite Loki to come, so he could see more of her realm. But the building in Asgard was still going on and he was enjoying working with his brother on it. Next year, perhaps.

She didn’t tell him she was already planning for next year.

The trip went wonderfully, she ate apples and plums fresh off the branch, tried noodles made from vegetables, and returned with a cart full of grain and preserves donated to the Asgardians. There was a distinct chill in the air when she rode back into the Capital, and the rains would probably start soon.

She left most of her entourage at the palace and rode on to Asgard in the hopes of seeing Loki.

There was a building on the central green they’d taken to calling the Meeting Hall. It wasn’t fancy, more longhouse than anything else, but once it had been built Valkyrie moved the planning room and all it’s models and maps down there, to be closer to the work. It was where they’d most likely be.

Leaving her mount at the edge of the grass, she walked the rest of the way. In her travel leathers and simple braid she didn’t look much like the queen and no one gave her so much as a second look.

She tapped on the open door and picked her head in. “Hello?”

The were all in there, Thor and his council, bent over the big village model on a table in the middle of the room. Whatever they were discussing stopped when everyone looked up. Loki grinned, coming over to her and lifting her right off her feet in a hug. “You’re back,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I am.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and took a breath of his sharp, wintery scent. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he replied, tucking her against his chest. They stood that way for a long moment, wrapped around each other.

Syn realized they had an audience, and took a moment to appreciate he didn’t seem to care, before leaning back. “If you’re busy I don’t want to distract you. I just wanted to see you.”

“We’re trying to decide where to put our memorial to the realm. It’s the kind of decision that just begs for another opinion.”

“Funny,” Thor said, and Syn got the sense he and Loki were on opposite sides of whatever the debate was. It didn’t sound like the type of heated debate that would devolve into bloodshed, though, so she didn’t worry.

She tucked her hands around his arm as he led her to the table. “What are the options?”

There was another knock on the door, and a red-haired man stepped in. “Pardon me, I have need of the King.”

“Are we still going with King?” Thor said. “I feel like there’s a certain awkwardness—“

“Not this again.” Loki rolled his eyes and waved a hand at Thor. “Sorry. What is it Harald?”

“Ingrid’s labor has started.”

Everyone else in the room froze, much to Syn’s amusement. Loki and Thor were giving each other panicked looks and Valkyrie looked vaguely ill.

“How often are the pains coming?” Syn asked the man.

He shook his head. “Not sure. She said it started late last night, but its getting quite severe now.”

“Tell her a midwife is coming.” She peeled her riding gloves off. “Do you have anywhere I can wash up?”

“You’re going to deliver a baby?” Loki asked in surprise. “Sure we could send up to the city. . .”

“If the pains started last night she could be near birthing. If I examine her and she has time we can send for the healers, but for now I’m what you’ve got.”

“We have running water,” Harald said. “We were one of the first houses finished.”

She smiled and walked to the door. “Excellent. Show me the way, we’ll see where we stand.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Dear man, I’m about to deliver your baby, we can dispense with the formalities for the evening.”

He grinned and lead her across the green and south a bit to a nice, solid wood house. After a pause in the kitchen to scrub her hands thoroughly, she followed him to the back bedroom.

There were three women in there, the pregnant one pacing along side the bed. She turned, saw Syn—and the men who had trailed behind her—and briefly gave her husband a look that could have peeled paint.

“Oh, don’t blame him,” Syn said. “I was the closest healer.” She glanced back at Loki and Thor. “No.”

“I’ve got them,” Valkyrie called from behind them, pulling them out of the room.

“Thank you!” She called out, then turned back to her patient. “Ingrid, is it? I’m Syn. I’ve delivered four babies and am trained as a healer. Do you mind if I give you a quick check to see how far you are?”

She nodded, and turned. “None of our healers made it out.”

“I understand.” She went over to crouch next to her. “If we have time, I can send someone to get a more experienced midwife from the Capital. Or we can just get this done ourselves.” She put a hand on Ingrid’s stomach and sank her magic into her. “The baby is turned and dropped. Heartbeat is fine.” A contraction tightened the uterus and Ingrid hissed, breathing. Syn counted in her head and kept pumping magic into her. “I don’t think we have enough time to wait for anyone else.”

“I thought my mother would be here,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Syn said, getting to her feet. “You do seem to have some support here.” She gestured at the other two women.

“I know. I’ve made friends.” She gritted her teeth through a contraction. “But our families are all gone.”

Syn took an arm to help her pace a little more. “My family is gone,” she told her. “As is the family I found after I lost the first. It’s hard to be alone, especially at moments like this.”

“It’s hard to start over.”

“I know. But babies help. Nothing says a new start better than a new life.”

“First baby born in our new home.” She leaned on Syn again for a contraction. They were clearly picking up in speed. “Men on Asgard don’t attend births.”

“They don’t do it much here, either. Too frightening, I think.” The other women chuckled. “Why don’t we get you on the bed and I’ll see what I can do about your pain? I think we’re getting very close to time.”

She nodded, and Syn helped her in bed. “And then I want someone to go get him.”

With a nod from Syn, one of the other women went out to the main room. Magic helped deaden some of the pain and Syn took her spot at the end of the bed, piled high with towels and cloths. “Right. When you feel the pressure again, push. I’ll count to ten and I need you to push the whole time I’m counting.”

Ingrid was in the middle of the pushing—and yelling—when her husband came in. “Uh.”

“Go stand my her head and let her crush your hand,” Syn ordered him. He leapt to do so. “Tell her how much you love her and what a good job she’s doing,” she suggested.

She focused on her part and Ingrid did hers. Harald managed to do his part, as well. Pretty soon a thatch of ruddy hair began to show. Syn used magic to warm some of the towels beside her. “On this push, I’m not going to count,” she told Ingrid. “Push hard as you can for as long as you can and I think you’ll be able to meet the newest Asgardian.”

Ingrid curled forward and put her back into, the sound she made more primal grunt than scream, and the baby slid into Syn’s hands.

It was a girl, red haired and faced, shrieking. Syn cleaned her face and chest, and wrapped a warm towel around her, grinning like an idiot. “Hush, hush. It’s not so bad. Here’s mama.” She placed her on Ingrid’s chest to soothe her.

“Look at her,” she said, stroking her baby’s back. “Look at her hair!” Harald, who was openly crying, could only nod.

Syn smiled and rolled up to her feet, wiping her hands off with a cloth. She and the other women dealt with the ugly aftermath of the miracle of life and then she slipped out to the main room to find the others waiting. “A little girl,” she told them. “With fiery red hair.”

Everyone grinned. Thor went to the front door and opened it, repeating the announcement outside. To her surprise, a cheer went up from what sounded like a very large crowd. “Is the whole town out there?” she asked Loki when he came up to her.

“Pretty much.” Music started up outside. “I think they’re throwing a party.”

She laughed. “That poor child. Famous before she can talk.”

The bedroom door opened and Harald came out. “Is everyone outside?”

“The whole town,” Sif confirmed. “The drinking has started.”

He ducked his head and shook it. “She was so upset she wouldn’t get the sort of big, celebrated birth like at home, where all the extended family come. . .”

“We are all we have left,” Thor said. “We are all family now.”

Harald nodded and swallowed hard. “Thank you, sire.” He looked at Syn. “And thank you, too.”

She smiled. “Congratulations on your daughter.”

“Thank you."

“If you wife wants to sleep, let us know,” Loki said. “We’ll herd the crowds away.”

“She’s happy they’re here. But I’ll tell her.” He ducked back into the room.

“Is anyone hungry?” Valkyrie asked. “I’m starving and they’re roasting a couple deer on a spit out there.”

They headed for the door, but Syn hung back. “I should go back to the palace. This is for Asgard and I don’t want to intrude.”

“You are mine and so you belong here,” Loki said, before anyone else could reply.

Her brows went up and he looked a little startled himself at what he’d said. But he stiffened his jaw and didn’t take it back, which made her smile. “All right,” she said softly.

Other eyebrows were up, but no one commented. He reached out his hand for hers. She tangled her fingers with his and he tugged her, marching her out into the party growing outside.

It was like an impromptu festival, with drinking and dancing an general merriment. At one point Thor was attempting to teach a group of people a Midgardian dance called a ‘waltz’ that looked as boring as, well, most things Midgard came up with. At Midsummer she recalled him pronouncing he couldn’t dance.

“He’s in a very good mood,” she commented to Loki, sipping the wine someone had handed her.

“He’s pretty ridiculous when he’s in love,” Loki replied. 

“Ah. Have they sorted themselves out, then?”

“We haven’t discussed it, per se, but he sure seems like he’s getting laid.” He gestured at where he had gotten Valkyrie to dance with him. “And a woman doesn’t consent to a dance that stupid unless there’s a really good shag at the end of it for her.”

She laughed, bumping his shoulder. “Have you ever been in love, my darling?”

He looked down at their tangled hands, and then back up at her. “Yes.”

Her cheeks heated, and she tried to tell herself it was just the wine. “Oh.” He didn’t drop her gaze, but didn’t say anything more. To stop herself from saying something, she leaned forward and kissed him. His hand came up to cup her cheek and hold her close. It was quite an intense kiss for being in public.

When they parted, he lifted his arm and she tucked herself closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You did good today,” he told her.

“Ingrid did most of the work,” she said. “But it was nice not to be the queen for a couple hours.”

“Nice to know you’ll have a career waiting if I change my mind on the coup d’etat.”

She chuckled. “Yes. I am well capable of making my way in the world.”

“When you’re ready to be the queen again, I am happy to go home and celebrate privately.”

Her muscles tightened in anticipation. They clearly weren’t ready to say certain things to each other. But their bodies had no such problems. She set her wine glass down and slipped both arms around him. “Take me home, Loki.”


	9. Chapter 9

Mornings were getting a little nip in the air now, even if it warmed in the afternoon. On the other side of the Equinox the sun was losing its battle a little more every day. Valkyrie didn’t mind the weather changing, except that now she woke up every morning with a cold nose because she was sharing a bed with a lunatic who slept with the window open.

One morning she was awoken to the patter of rain outside, and blowing in. It was worth kicking him in the shins. “Go close the window.”

He grunted a little and rolled to the side, climbing out of bed. “But the weather is finally nice.”

She pulled the blankets up to her nose. “Says you.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer I stay in bed and keep you warm?” he teased, sticking a hand back under the covers. 

“I’d prefer you close the window and then come keep me warm.” His wandering hand had found her thigh, and since it was warm she decided to allow it.

“I find the rain invigorating.”

“I can tell,” she replied, as the hand went higher. He was going to get right back in this bed with the stupid window still open and she wasn’t even going to argue.

There was a knock at the door and a servant’s voice, “Lady Valkyrie?”

She caught his wrist before sitting up. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you. Her Majesty has extended and invitation to join her in the palace spa and suggested I catch you before you begin your work. She said it was ‘the perfect weather to lounge in a hot spring’ and to promise there were no surveillance cameras.”

Valkyrie laughed. “Sounds like a great idea. Can we meet in an hour?”

“Yes, my lady. I will let her know.” 

She heard the sound of her footsteps retreating and Thor landed down to kiss her throat. “An hour is plenty of time.” 

Grinning, she leaned back and pulled him back down onto the bed. The window could wait.

An hour later a servant came to retrieve her and led her to the royal wing of the palace. She hadn’t been over here before. It was similar to the guest quarters, maybe a slightly plusher carpet, less rooms. There were paintings on the walls, too, including a family portrait with a little girl she assumed was Syn.

Down a short flight of stairs, they ended up in a stone walled hallway. The servant opened a heavy wooden door taller the Heimdal, and bowed to indicate she should enter. Valkyrie nodded her thanks and stepped in.

The room appeared to have been carved out of a rock, or perhaps had once been a cave. There were multiple baths, a pile of towels sat on a low bench and she could see what looked like a sauna or steam room through an open door.

Syn and Sif were in one of the tubs. The queen waved. “Hello. This is where we come when the weather is awful.”

She shed her clothes and climbed in, sinking into the hot water. “I approve.”

Handing her a glass of iced water, Syn said, “I felt we all deserved a day off.”

“I wasn’t looking forward to hammering in the rain, so thank you,” she replied.

“We’ve got most of the main building done, and all of the priority homes built,” Sif said. “We can handle a day or two of rain.”

“We’ll be done before the weather gets bad,” Valkyrie confirmed. “Everything is on track. Amazingly.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Syn said. “You can hunker down for the worst of it and start planting in the spring.”

“The only houses that haven’t at least had ground broken for them are ours,” Valkyrie said. “All of us living in the palace. We wanted all the citizens out of tents first.”

“Doesn’t matter much where we sleep since we’re down there all day,” Sif said. “If construction slows or stops for the winter, some of us might go down and bunk in the meeting house or something. Heimdal expressed an interest. I believe I will as well.”

“You are all welcome as long as you want,” Syn said. “But I understand why you’d want to join your people.”

“I’m sure Loki will never spend a night down there,” Sif replied, smirking.

Syn shrugged elegantly. “You never know. He may make me angry and need to think about what he’s done.”

They both laughed. “Thor probably should,” Valkyrie said with a sigh. “I don’t do well sleeping in group situations.”

“Bad memories?” Sif asked.

“Among other things. In any case, I am staying until I get my house built. I expect Thor will go back and forth depending on whether his libido or his his sense of duty is currently driving.”

The others laughed again. “You seem to be doing well,” Syn commented, sounding a little hesitant. “He seems happy. Settled.”

He did seem happy. And so did she. “If I was more poetic, I could come up with a romance-related reply,” she said. “But honestly, the first thing I thought was that if someone is having as much sex as we are having and not in a good mood, there is something wrong with their brain chemistry.”

“It does tend to perk one up. It’s certainly made my days brighter.”

She raised her glass of water in toast to that. “But yeah. We are are happy. It’s a somewhat unfamiliar sensation for me.”

“I’m hearing that sentiment a lot lately,” Syn said with a smile. “Do you also have the occasionally urge to sabotage it all?”

“I might, if I though it would somehow spare me a broken heart in the end. But I’m honest enough to admit I’m already well past that.” Her Dinner Club had done a lot for her ability to be honest with herself.

“I always recommend honesty.”

Sif shook her head. “ _I’m_ honestly amazed Loki hasn’t fucked it up with you already.”

“Maybe he’s enjoying our rare moment of peace as much as everyone is,” Valkyrie said. 

Syn inclined her head. “Could be. He’s . . . trying to change.”

“Thor seems to think he’s managing. Maybe they are actually healing their childhood wounds.”

“They lost their mother and their father and their home,” Syn said quietly, swirling the juice in her glass. “That tends to put things in a certain perspective.”

“You think he’s reached the end of his mischief?” Valkyrie asked.

She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, and tried again. “I am hoping he will put it to better use.”

“I am honestly not sure Thor could take it if Loki turned on him again. Resilient as he is. Everyone has a limit. And I think by this point it would blindsiding, too.” 

“I do not think he’ll turn on Thor again,” Syn said and smiled, as if she hadn’t been entirely sure she’d get it out. “There are ways to be mischievous that don’t harm anyone.”

“Good,” Valkyrie said. “The ramifications of that would be pretty awful.” She’d told Loki once she’d make him wish he was dead if he hurt his brother again. It had been drunk bravado mixed with sympathy, nothing more. Funny that now is _was_ true. She’d kill him without regret, stone cold sober. She’d go through Syn to get him if she had to—and she’d almost certainly have to. She was pretty sure Syn knew that, too.

“He’s enjoying his more worthwhile pursuits. And his connection to me allows him to be somewhat in Alfan politics. I think he’ll be all right.” She looked shy and cleared her throat. “Odds are he’ll get to be king eventually, anyway.”

“Devil’s own luck, that one,” Sif said.

“So its like that, eh?” Valkyrie asked. “Good for you.”

“We haven’t discussed it. It’s new and he’s. . . him. But I do love him and I’m fairly confident he loves me. We’re going to need to do something, before my political enemies start using my inappropriate relationship as a weapon.”

“It’s probably good politics,” Sif offered. “Intermarry with the newcomers.”

“It is. If he were properly Asgardian I’d have four advisors planning the wedding already.”

“How widely known is it that he’s not?”

“Thanks to that idiotic play he had commissioned while pretending to be Odin? Widely.” She shook her head. “In the last week I’ve been reminded that no one is entirely sure if Alfans and Jotuns can breed and a queen needs an heir.”

“I heard tale of half-breeds,” Valkyrie said. “In my first life. Time has no meaning on Sakaar so it doesn’t seem so, but I’m a good thousand years older than any of you. All armies in the field leave bastards behind.”

“Some intermixing seems more. . .logistically difficult.” Sif said. “Such as when one party is a giant, and also frozen.”

“The original conquest of Jotunheim was well before my time,” Valkyrie said. “But I have heard men that learned the hard way that raping a Jotun woman was a great way to get your dick freeze-dried.”

Both the other women snorted in laughter. “Since we seem to be opening this conversation,” Sif said, looking at Syn. “How does that all work for you?”

The queen smirked. “Well and frequently.” Sif made a face and Syn laughed. “He is colder than other people. His body temperature never gets near mine. But he’s proportional, as much as any other man I’ve seen.”

“The cold sounds kind of neat,” Valkyrie said.

“He’s repeatedly asked me if it it bothers me, which of course I assure him it does not. What I have not said is that it’s rather erotic, since he’s still a bit touchy about his heritage. The difference in temperatures adds a level of intensity. We took a bath once and-“ Sif had begun to look horrified and Syn waved a hand. “Not this one, not this one.”

“The bathtubs attached to the bedrooms are lovely for that purpose,” Valkyrie offered.

Syn gestured. “They are. And mine is even bigger. We had a lovely time. And the juxtaposition of hot water and cold hands was especially arousing.”

“For what it’s worth,” Valkyrie said, “I think you should tell him.”

She arched a brow. “That I love him for his body temperature?”

“That you get pleasure from something he probably thinks he should apologize for.”

“Huh.” Her face indicated she hadn’t thought of it that way before. “I’ll try.”

“I think we all want to be loved at our worst. To have someone see the things we hate most about ourselves and want us anyway.” 

“That’s a good point. I don’t exactly hate my truth curse, but it can make relationships awkward. He seems to like it. For various reasons.”

“I always appreciate it when lovers don’t expect me to always be a warrior,” Sif said. “They have a particular image in their mind of who I am and if I dare to wear a dress or like flowers they’re horrified.”

Valkyrie had been trying to sort out in her head, lately, what she and Thor needed from each other. At the moment they were too busy distracting themselves with sex to really get into it. But it was far beyond physical. That she was sure of. “I apparently need someone with a lot of patience. Who will take care of me when I’m a disaster, and not hold it against me.”

“Seems like Thor checks most if not all of those boxes.”

She felt an uncharacteristic blush. “Suppose I could distill it down to ‘someone who still wants me after I’ve puked on them a dozen times’.” She was still embarrassed about that.

Syn lifted a glass. “I’m sorry, darling, I’m taken.”

“He really did take good care of you that week,” Sif said. “I assumed you were already together, honestly, considering he slept in a chair for a week.”

There was the blush again. “Yeah. He didn’t have to do that. But I’m not surprised he did.”

“He’s always been like that,” Sif told her. “It’s why he was a good leader. He had his moments of ego and impulsiveness. But at the end of the day, he’d go through hell for you.”

“I can only hope he feels he is getting something equally worthy from me.”

“He needs someone to take care of him. When he refuses to do it himself. And when he doesn’t even realize they’re doing it.”

She thought about fixing up his eye after the battle. Perhaps that was, in a way, where they started. “I will keep that in mind.”

“When you’re the one in charge, there is a pressure to always be in charge,” Syn said, sounding thoughtful. “To be together and perfect and untouched. One of my favorite things about Loki is that when I’m with him I can forget I’m the queen.”

“I’m afraid he still tries to be perfect with me.”

“A day will come when he won’t be able to hold it together anymore. How you react will be important.”

She feared she’d fail. She was almost certain she would. But perhaps that was the risk he’d insisted she was worth. “I will keep that in mind, too.”

“On a related but more cheerful note,” Syn said, “It has reached my ears that there will be our first Alfan/Asgardian baby born in the spring.”

Sif laughed. “From Midsummer? I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Thor mentioned the birth spike,” Valkyrie said. “Do your people have your fertile time in the summer?”

Syn tilted her head, brow furrowed. “Fertile time? Not specifically. I think the drunken lowering of inhibitions just makes babies seem like a great idea.”

“And that influences conception?”

“For Alfan women, yes. Our fertility is hard to predict but it is at least somewhat tied to the desire to have a baby. A woman who doesn’t want a child won’t get pregnant. That’s not how it’s done in Asgard?”

Sif and Valkyrie shook their heads. “We have a specific time when we are fertile,” Valkyrie elaborated. “It seems fairly random, as best as I could tell. But we’re a patriarchal society to things related to female bodies are icky and not discussed in public. So it’s not discussed much.”

“So you. . .. have heat?”

“Most women would probably bristle at that description, in that they like more highbrow euphemisms. But yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s a pretty overwhelming urge,” Sif added. “You kind of want to grab the nearest man - or woman, if that’s your thing - and drag him back to your tent by his hair.”

Valkyrie snorted. “Seriously, married women who don’t want to have a baby just about have to lock themselves up.”

“That sounds equal parts annoying and exhilarating. Our menfolk won’t know what hit them.”

“It is truly awful when it happens and you’re in the field with a hundred warriors,” Sif said.

“Sex with other women scratches the itch,” Valkyrie said. “That’s how I dealt with it.”

“I was the only woman. We were mostly banned from combat after the destruction of the Valkyries. Or so I was told.”

“Fucking Odin,” Valkyrie muttered.

Syn was clearly still stuck on the fertility thing. “Does it happen often?”

She shook her head. “Only ten or twelve times in a woman’s lifetime. When I was growing up we were in full conquest mode and soldiers were dying in high numbers, and women were encouraged to have as many as they could.”

“By my youth,” Sif said, “There were a lot of ‘women’s retreats’ and most families had two at the most.”

“That is utterly fascinating. Seems like we should encourage Asgard men to seek out Alfan women.”

“And we need to go back to ‘have as many as you can’,” Valkyrie said. “Scary as that is.”

“Not sure how everyone will feel about being breeding stock,” Sif agreed. “But there’s too few of us not to try and do our part.”

“I didn’t have any on Sakaar,” Valkyrie said. “But I also didn’t age, really, so. . .” It occurred to her, since they were talking about it, that she would likely start having them again. And she would probably be expected to reproduce. She was the King’s Mistress, after all. That was a terrifying thought.

There was a stretch of silence, but before it could become awkward, Syn said, “Enough heavy topics. Who’s for a steam bath?”

*

With the village mostly built and Valkyrie still sober, Loki’s duties to Asgard began to lessen. He found himself at Syn’s side more and more in his role as “Advisor to the Queen.” Hilde was still quietly rooting to an upgrade to “Consort” but in the mean time, she’d decided he needed a crash course in Alfan political history and law.

“Do you really have a day in the spring where anyone can come to the palace with a problem and you have to listen to them?”

Syn glanced up from the letter she was reading. “Be grateful I just picked a random day in spring. It used to be on the ruler’s birthday.”

“What kinds of things do they ask about?”

“It’s often land disputes. Marriage contracts that one or the other participant doesn’t want to go through with. A few divorces. Young adults who don’t want to go into the family business.”

“No one asking you to split a baby in half?”At her startled expression, he added. “Sorry, it’s Midgard Mythology. I read a lot of random things in the royal library going up.”

“Midgardians are odd,” she said. “No, though I do get the odd custody disputes. Those are. . . very hard. If I didn’t have truth sense I don’t know how I’d decide.”

“You choose whomever is lying the least?”

“If a child custody dispute lands at my throne, I assure you, someone is lying quite a lot.”

“I’m not really one to pass judgement on inter-family conflicts.”

She laughed. “I would not have wanted to judge any of that.”

“It would have been nice to have someone see through all the many, many layers of lies.”

Shaking her head, she looked back at her letter. “Odin had so many secrets and lies, I probably wouldn’t have been able to look at him.”

He’d never ventured the thought aloud—though it had likely occurred to her—but he wondered sometimes if her parents had been killed because they _could_ see. Even in his worst, Odin liked protocol. He wasn’t one to kill fellow royals. Unless he didn’t want to leave behind someone who could tell the universe about his crazy daughter locked in the basement. “I much better enjoy the honesty.”

Syn glanced back up at him and smiled, a soft, real smile, no quirk or twist to it. He almost never saw her smile like that.

For a heartbeat, it seemed like she would say something, but there was a knock at the door and the moment was gone.

“Come,” Syn called and Hilde peeked inside.

“There’s a problem that needs your attention.”

“I will wait here,” Loki said.

“No,” Hilde replied. “I think you should come along.”

Frowning, Syn stood and came around her desk. He stood and she passed and she paused briefly to squeeze his hand before following Hilde out into the hallway.

Colm was out in the main room, with a dusty and windblown rider. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” Colm said. “There’s a situation in the Northern Province that may require your attention.”

Syn sighed deeply and crossed her arms. “Eoin has started a revolt?”

“Not. . .yet.” That was ominous. “There is a little girl who has gone missing. It’s been a full day and overnight. She’s from a prominent family. I would not normally involve you—or even be involved myself—but my people have heard the rumor being stoked is that the Asgardian’s did it.”

“Of course.” She rubbed her hand over his face. “Any other suspects?”

“No, and I’m concerned if they’re fixating, the searches will stop. I even heard there’s a contingent heading down here to demand you do something.”

“Right. We should get some extra guards at the doors and down to Asgard. Let them think they’re inspecting the homes for missing children. In the mean time I suppose I’ll solve a missing child case in a matter of hours.”

“We can solve it,” Loki said. “Well, Heimdal can. He sees everything pretty much always.”

She turned and looked at him. “Oh, thank you.” She kissed his cheek and looked at Hilde. “Send some one on the fastest hart and tell Heimdal I need him immediately.”

Loki sent a tendril of magic out to get the gatekeepers attention and let him know what happened. “He’s already on his way.”

“You are immensely helpful,” she told him. To Colm, she said, “We will get this sorted. Have some messengers ready to go back North and make sure everyone is on alert. I don’t think this will simmer down quickly, even if we do find the girl.”

“Perhaps a trip in person would be a good idea,” Loki said. “Arrive with good news. Take Heimdal with us. Things work better in person.”

She drummed her fingers on her leg, thinking it over. “I hate going onto his land, but you make a good point. A personal touch is probably in order.”

“And they will know you’re telling the truth. Sometimes that’s handy.”

“Indeed. I’m going to get riding clothes on. Can you catch Heimdal up for me?”

“I will.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Go.”

She nodded and ran off towards her quarters, leaving him with Colm and Hilde.

“I’ll get the guard on alert,” Colm said.

Loki explained the rest to Heimdal when he got there, and got a frown in return. “There are no children in fear or danger in that region,” he said. “So wherever she is, she is safe. I’d need to know who she was to tell you specifically where she is.”

“Her name is Lyra,” the messenger said. “She’s about six, her father’s in the mining business up there.”

Loki watched his eyes unfocussed a moment. “She is with her mother,” he said, sounding vaguely confused. “They are. . .here. In the Capitol. In a hotel. Right now she is playing with dolls.”

With a sigh, Loki rubbed his forehead. “The parents. They divorced?”

The messenger nodded and Hilde said, “Almost two years ago. They came last spring for Syn to decide custody. She gave it to the father. Said the mother only wanted to girl to hurt her ex husband.”

“Clearly she’s escalating.” He sighed again, then looked at Colm. “Send your men to go get the both of them. Heimdal will give you the address.”

Syn rejoined them a few minutes later, in her riding leathers. They caught her up and her face darkened. “I’ll wait to talk to her, but we may still be taking a ride North.”

“Custody,” Loki muttered. “I see why you don’t like it.”

She shook her head. “No. I remember that woman. She was flighty and a bit petty, but she didn’t have the guts for something like this. I’d bet my family ring someone gave her the idea.”

He turned fully. “You think this was staged?”

“It’s all rather convenient, isn’t it? Little girl missing, rumors about the Asgardians behind it? And she’s safe as houses with her mother, tucked away in a hotel under my nose?” She crossed her arms and frowned. “Eoin was loyal to the steward, made quite a bit of money under his rule. He never approved of my brother and my more liberal policies. Allowing the Asgardians to settle here has been my more radical move by far. If I wanted to stage a political coup, I’d use it as a catalyst to turn the populace against me.”

“My sinister mind can’t find flaw with your conclusions.”

She smiled thinly. “On the bright side, if he _did_ plan it and I can prove it, he’s lost.”

“Careful you don’t make a martyr out of him.”

“Martyrs generally need to be likable, but I see your point. Still, he’s committed a crime - several crimes - and I’m well within my rights to punish him for that.”

“I suppose you will need some evidence other than Heimdal’s word.”

“The mother has a suitcase full of cash under her hotel bed,” Heimdal offered helpfully.

“That will do it. I’m guessing when faced with the wrath of the Royal Guard she will helpfully confess her patron.”

Loki went over to one of the chairs and sat. “This really is turning out far better than it sounded at the beginning.”

“Isn’t it?” Syn rested her hip against the arm of his chair. “I wonder if I should worry about that.”

“Sometimes there aren’t layers of deception to things. They just are. His plan would have worked out great had we not had the guy who sees everything.”

She inclined her head. “True.” Glancing over at Heimdal, she added, “Someone’s probably going to hand you a stack of missing persons cases in a day or two.”

“I would be happy to. They called me every time someone went missing on Asgard.”

“I’m sure some of them are consenting adults who don’t wish to be found. But I know how an answer can bring closure.”

“It would be an honor to help your people as you have helped us.”

She smiled widely and Loki felt her fingers start to play lightly with his hair. He supposed now it was just a matter of waiting to get the evidence they needed.


	10. Chapter 10

The guards brought in the mother and the little girl. There was a lot of crying while the mother tried to explain the whole thing to Syn. Loki entertained the little girl—and himself—with small magic tricks while it went on.

Finally, the woman calmed down enough to have a conversation. Syn sent her away with the daughter and two guards, and sent someone else to contact the father.

“She admitted Eoin ‘encouraged’ the idea. She had passage booked on one of his ships tomorrow. The money was to start her new life with her relatives.” Syn sighed and sat next to him. “Colm. Go arrest Lord Eoin. Bring him here and put him in the cells downstairs. He will have until he arrives to confess everything to you, otherwise I will have a very unpleasant conversation with him.”

The guardsman nodded and turned, leaving the parlor. Syn turned to Heimdal. “Thank you for your help. This would have been very ugly without your sight.”

He didn’t answer, and was starting into space. Loki frowned. “Heimdal?”

After a beat he said, “There is a fire.”

*

Thor didn’t panic at the first cries of fire. Most people were out of tents now, but the did have a few cooking fires that could easily get out of hand. People had become quite adept at putting them out and with the recent rains several houses had water barrels out side they were using to keep water.

When the cries stated to get louder and more frantic, he looked up from the town layout he’d been studying and went to the door of the long house.

He could smell the smoke outside, and has he walked in it’s direction, he could see one of the building closest to the forest was on fire. Literally as he watched, another house 50 yards away went up, and then another and another. It took him a moment to realize there were people in the woods, shooting flaming arrows at the roofs.

Valkyrie had jogged up beside him. “Are we under attack?”

“I think we are.” It made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t think of any other explanation. “Do we have anyone you’d trust with a sword?”

“We don’t _have_ any swords. Mine is in my room in the palace.” She wheeled around and looked at the storage shed. “I can work with a machete and an axe.” She jogged towards it. “I’ll get the archers. Make it rain.”

She said that with absolute faith. Fighting Hela had taught him how to create the lightning; he’d even used to it help clear the land while they were building the village. But he’d never made an actual storm system without Mjolnir. Which he most emphatically did not have.

His people needed him. And he was not the God of Hammers. He strode out into the green and looked up at the sky, a beautiful clear blue, and tried to call the clouds.

More roofs went up. Valkyrie ran into the woods and out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfan guards following her. He hoped they were on her side.

The thought that they might not be, that she was about to be ambushed, made the sky darken.

Fear and anger helped, clearly. Following dark lines of thought. Who would want to hurt them? Was Loki turning on him again? That earned him a loud rumble from the sky. Unfortunately, instead of rain, that generated wind, which was making the fire spread faster.

_Breathe_ , he reminded himself. _Focus_. He needed rain, heavy rain. They had worked too hard, come to far, to lose the town now. He didn’t think his people could stand it. He didn’t know how he could take it.

There was a flash of green at the edge of his vision and he jerked to look, finding Loki standing there, looking at the flames in horror.

Relief rushed through him. Not a betrayal. Not his brother’s doing.

And somehow that was the emotion that let the sky open up.

“Brother,” Loki said, tapping his arm and pointing. The meeting house was on fire. 

“The Tree,” he said. Their cutting was inside, in a small indoor greenhouse they’d set up to keep it healthy before planting.

“I’ll get it,” Loki said, heading that way. Thor watched his skin turn blue before he disappeared into the flames.

For now Thor had people to evacuate.

Some of the other Asgardians had already started banging on doors and emptying people out into the center green. Thor headed for the northern end of the town, where the first houses had gone up, to make sure they’d been emptied.

More guards arrived from the capitol, as did a fire brigade. Thor directed them to the hardest hit places and kept an eye out for Valkyrie and his brother.

The rain was doing its work, but throwing up so much smoke you could barely see your hand in front of your face, and the lanes between houses were starting to flood. He thought perhaps monsoon rains were overkill, but now that he’d started it, he couldn’t make it stop.

He finished his last round of house checks and was met on the grass by the fire chief. “We’ve got out all the main blazes. My men are going house to house to put out anything smoldering.” He pointed to the forest. “The guards and your Valkyrie caught some of the men responsible.”

He squinted at the smoke stinging his eyes, looking where the man pointed like somehow he’d see something.

“You can turn the rain off, it’s probably doing more harm than good at this point,” the fire chief commented.

He sighed. “Yes. I’m. . . trying.” He should find his brother. He had magic, maybe he’d have advice on how to turn it off.

The fire chief nodded. “Well, I’m going to do another round of checks.” 

Then he walked off, leaving Thor staring at the clouds above.

“You never do anything small, do you?” He turned to see Valkyrie emerging from the smoke, bloody axe on her shoulder.

“Says the woman with the bloody weapon.” He squinted up. “I don’t know how to turn it off,” he admitted. “I know it’s making things worse, but getting worried about that seemed to only make it rain harder.”

“Are you saying your emotions control the weather?” She sounded amused.

He shrugged. “When I had the hammer I could focus it through that. Without it, the only way I know how to make it happen is with emotions.”

She squinted up at the rain, and said, “Okay.” Then she swung her axe down to the ground and came towards him. When she got close enough she reached up to trace her fingers down the side of his face, along the outer edge of the eye patch. She liked to touch that side of his face, like she was trying to tell him she liked it even if he didn’t. “Then you focus your emotions.”

Taking a deep breath, he caught a bit of her scent underneath the soot and fire. He leaned into her touch, focusing on exactly how her fingers felt, the warmth of her skin, the calluses that scraped lightly against his beard. She was warmth and safety. She was peace after a lifetime at war. 

It took him a minute to realize the rain had stopped.

She grinned up at him, thumb stroking his cheek. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

She wrapped her arms around him, and he just held her. They had a moment of escape from this godawful day. Eventually leaned up to kiss him lightly. “Come on. There’s still a lot of work to do.”

“Yes. I heard you have some prisoners?”

She barked a laugh. “The guards have prisoners. I have bodies.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, rubbing her back as she lead him towards the forest edge.

There was a handful of guards there, with several men in dark clothes kneeling in front of them. The queen was there, dressed in black leathers, one hand pressed against one of the prisoner’s faces. “Who. Sent. You.”

The man gritted his teeth, breathing hard through his teeth. Gold light seeped around her fingers and he screamed, before saying the name, “Eoin,” over and over until she released him.

“Can I kill them now?” Valkyrie called.

“That’s up to Thor,” Syn replied, tugging a glove back on. “The attack was on his lands, so he is the wronged party.”

He blinked. “Is that how it works here?”

She looked up at him. “For serious crimes, yes. I pass judgement and will take the wronged party’s wishes into account. Given the seriousness of this crime, and his clear guilt, I’m leaving the punishment entirely up to you.”

This was one of those times he probably shouldn’t make a decision in anger. But his people were homeless - again - and the rainy season had already begun. Telling them the men who’d done it were dead would be the only comfort he could offer them. So he nodded at Valkyrie.

Loki stepped in front of them, back to the men and Syn, and in a low voice said, “Don’t do it.”

For a second Thor was certain he’d heard wrong. Valkyrie actually had her mouth open. “Who are you and where is my brother?” he hissed.

“Killing them will make them martyrs ‘murdered’ by the Asgardians. Not to mention being too quick and clean an end for them. I’d have much preferred Odin execute me than shove me in that shiny gold box. Put them in irons, make them help rebuild what they burned. Let people throw things at them. Rotten fruit, bricks, whatever. And then they can spend the rest of their lives in a dungeon.” He paused and turned his head to call over his shoulder, “Dear heart, do you have a dungeon?”

She was still pretending to fidget with her gloves. “Yes, but it’s gauche to call it that, darling.”

Loki looked back at Thor. “There you go.”

“Right.” He gave Valkyrie and apologetic look and turned back to the guards. “Take them to the dungeon, I suppose.”

Valkyrie reached out and took his hand, in what felt like a show of support.

The guards left and Syn turned to them. “Eoin will be at the palace soon. I will deal with him, then I can come back and help with logistics, if you wish.”

Thor paused, considering. Sooner or later, he had to stand on his own. They owed the queen a great deal. But he was the leader of Asgard, he had his council and trusted their judgement. He could do this. “I appreciate the offer, your majesty. I will contact you if we need anything.”

Surprise crossed her features, but she smiled and inclined her head. “We’ll speak later, then.”

They did a thorough inspection of the town. Thirty houses had burned down, any many more were damaged, by either the fire, or the water. The geothermal plant was damaged, which meant even the intact houses had no heat, no power, and no running water. 

It could have been worse. No one died or was even physically injured. But he still had more than 200 people who were now homeless, and dozens of families who had lost absolutely everything for the second time in 6 months. 

He stood by the meeting house with Loki, Valkyrie, Sif, and Heimdal, surveying the people now gathering in the green. “I suppose for now we set up the long house for families, tarp off the damaged roof and walls. Then set up tents for the rest. Geothermal has to be the priority."

“The school is in good shape,” Sif said. “There’s no heat or power yet, but will be good for the night. It’s almost sundown.”

He nodded. “Let’s get a group together to gather whatever mattresses and bedding we have intact and start setting people up.”

“I can go up to the Capitol,” Loki said. “See what supplies can be sent down.”

There was a difference between being dependent on aid and accepting help when needed. “Yes. If she’s feeling particularly generous, somewhere warm to house the pregnant women and young children wouldn’t go amiss.” Maybe she had magical heaters.

Loki patted his arm. “I’ll be back,” he said, and vanished.

*

Syn’s father had been an angry man. She didn’t recall him ever taking it out on her or her brother, but she had stark memories of him shouting at messengers and advisors. Of terrified prisoners and stoic guards. When he’d been king, Boe had blustered and bellowed, but he’d been too good natured to have any force behind it.

She tried, with real effort, to be a calm and kind woman. She gave people the benefit of the doubt, strove for justice, not vengeance. Her people were her responsibility, they were all part of the same team And she refused to rule with anger and fear.

But she had long known that she had her father’s temper. And right now, she was furious.

She strode through the cellblock underneath the palace. The dungeon, Loki had called it. Eoin had been thrown in the farthest one, with Colm himself outside.

“Did he confess to anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Railed the whole way back, insisted he was being framed and you had a vendetta against him.”

Of course he had. She shook her head and tugged her gloves off. “This will be fun then.”

She stepped into the cell. Eoin was seated in a rough wood chair, chained hand and foot. He glared when she entered.

“I’m sure you’ve imagined this moment,” she said, strolling over to his chair. “Our climactic final meeting. In your head, you’re my nemesis. But honestly, Eoin, I’m exhausted. The sun is setting, I’ve run back and forth the Asgard and all over this palace and there’s still a great deal to be done. I have the confession of your kidnapper and your arsonists. I don’t need a word from you. We’ll have a trial later, for show. But just so you know: you are being stripped of your title and your position on the council will be given to Thor or a representative of his choice. You are going to work to rebuild Asgard Village and then you will be sent to the North for hard labor. Any questions?”

He continued to glare a moment, then very quietly, “What of my family?”

Perhaps there was a bit of him that wasn’t a villain. “I will seize a portion of your assets. Not enough to put them in trouble but enough everyone knows I’m angry. Your son will be allowed to run your shipping business, but your lands and any income from them will revert to the crown.” He nodded and looked down, slumping. “I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish. I don’t know if you hoped to be king or steward or whatever. It’s over now. If you want to sway my decisions in any way, a list of anyone else who isn’t as loyal to the crown would be of interest to me.” Silence. “Well. Give it some thought. Someone will bring you breakfast.”

She turned on a heel and left.

Unsurprisingly, Loki was loitering in the hall. “I didn’t eavesdrop,” he said.

“I’m shocked at your self restraint.” She sighed. “What do you need?”

“I came to tell you we’ve gotten everyone housing for the night. We’ve filled all your guest rooms with the more vulnerable people—those of us staying in the palace have offered up our rooms as well. Thor, Valkyrie, Heimdall and Sif are staying down in the village.” He smiled. “I will be staying up here with you, obviously.”

“Of course.” She really wanted to hug him, but she still needed to be queen for a bit longer and feared she’d break if she did. “How bad is the damage?” she asked as they began to walk to the stairs.

“About a third of the town is significantly damaged. But the power and water are out, so everyone is suffering to one degree or another.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “Anything I can offer to help is yours.”

“It isn’t your fault, any more than my bad behavior was Thor’s. I think right now everyone is just in shock.”

She nodded. “It will be easier to assess things in the morning.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Oh, you really _didn’t_ eavesdrop.” He put a hand on her elbow as they climbed the stairs up to the main part of the palace. “He’s lost his title and will have to rebuild Asgard, then exiled North.”

“What’s up north?”

“A lot of moor and rock and fog. There’s a prison there and work houses. I told him if he gave me the names of other traitors to the crown if might make me more lenient. It will be the difference between life in the workhouse and life in exile but with his family able to send him funds.”

Loki sighed. “You think there are other traitors?”

“I don’t think there is anyone as bad as him. But do I think he’s the only lord who preferred the steward to me? No. No one has one hundred percent approval. With the most vocal gone I need to know who to watch out for.” Which meant she and Loki needed to have a very pragmatic conversation that she really didn’t want to have.

“You can’t force it out of him?”

Ah yes, he had seen her earlier interrogation. “I could. I don’t like to. And it’s possible he doesn’t know anything more. We’ll see how a day or two in the cell treats him.”

“I admire your restraint.” 

“Forcing a truth out of someone is. . . unpleasant for me. I use it as a last resort.”

They reached the main floor of the palace, and Loki held out his hand for her. “I didn’t think you’d eaten, so I had some food brought to our rooms. A meal and a bath might do you good.”

She hated the tears that pricked the back of her eyes. She blamed it on the long day and the overuse of her powers. It had nothing to do with how long it had been since someone had thought to take care of her.

Summoning a smile, she slid her hand into his. “That sounds lovely.”

The food was laid out, and the tub filled before they even got there. Both were steaming hot, making her wonder if he was using magic to keep them so. At this moment, she didn’t particularly care.

She stroked a hand along his jaw in silent thanks before sinking into a chair to eat. She felt oddly raw and unsettled from the days events and hoped the food would help. 

“You know, Hilde told me—rather sternly—that my chief duty was making sure you ate, and she would know if I was falling down on the job.”

“Of course she did.” Syn chuckled, digging into the meat pie that set on the plate. “You’re even learning my favorite comfort foods.”

“I take my duties quite seriously.” 

She smiled and busied herself eating for a little bit. It did help her mood, at least enough to help her realize what was actually bothering her. She didn’t want to have this conversation, but was now certain she had to. “Speaking of your duties. . .”

He raised his eyebrows. “The duties that come after the bath?”

“Not entirely but related.” Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. “It’s obvious that the anti-Asgardian sentiment - and my enemies - are a bigger problem than I’d initially thought. If you were an Alfan lord I could probably dally with you for years before anyone cared. But you’re not. You’re an Asgardian prince and as far as most of my people know, we only met this summer when you landed. I think. . . I think we need to do something to legitimize our relationship. To put people at ease.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

She couldn’t read his tone at all. “I think a betrothal would be sufficient. We could drag it out as long as we wanted. But it would make you my official Consort and give the impression of permanence.”

He reached for his drink. “Okay. Works for me.”

Perhaps she’s fallen and hurt her head and was hallucinating this. “I- really? Just like that?”

Now he looked hesitant, and slightly confused. “Yes. . .?”

“I’m sorry I just thought you’d balk more at the idea.”

“I’m not exactly one to turn down elevations of my own status.” He waved a hand around. “I do live with you.”

From a purely pragmatic point of view, he was right. She should have known better than to hope for an emotional confession, not from him. “Reasonably certain” that he loved her was probably the best she was ever going to get. It was just her mood and long day that had her aching. “Hilde will be pleased,” she said, picking up the custard tart he’d brought her. “She loves writing official announcements.”

He was very quiet on the other side of the table. Finally he asked, “Are you?”

She looked up at him. “Am I what? Pleased?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, I am.” The words were mostly true, but left a vague sour taste in her mouth and an ache behind her eyes. “I would like to be betrothed to you.” That was entirely true.

There must have been something on her face, because he frowned. But he didn’t say anything, just went back to studying his cup like it would tell him something. Something hung in the air, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

They ate the rest of the meal in a faintly awkward silence. When she had cleaned her plate, Syn stood, stretched, and started to unfasten her leathers so she could take her bath. He stood, too. “Need any help?”

“I imagine you have more experience taking off leathers than I do,” she teased, smiling at him over her shoulder.

That got a smile back, and he came towards her, bending to kiss her neck as he undid the strap. “I promise to be gentle.”


	11. Chapter 11

They hauled goods. They hauled water. They hung tarps and nailed boards. A couple of engineers had come down from the city and were trying to get the geothermal plant back up. In the mean time, Loki had procured—possibly stolen—what seemed like every battery-powered lamp and portable heater within a hundred miles, and the team passed them out.

Valkyrie had been given charge of their prisoners, and she had them doing the most unpleasant task she could think of, which was digging latrines—no water meant no sewer, and people had to shit somewhere.

It was a long, long night.

Somewhere around midnight, the engineers said they needed a part from up in the city they couldn’t get until morning. She thought was a good point to try and herd Thor into going to bed, or at least eating dinner.

He had apparently stated dismantling some of the more destroyed houses, clearing away the charred and dangerous beams and boards. It would be days if not weeks before any new building would be done, but he clearly needed something physical to do with himself. He nodded to her when he saw her coming.

“The engineers need a part. They went back up to the city and will return in the morning. The prisoners are chained to a tree in the mud under a woefully inadequate tarp. The families we sent up to the palace are safe and settled. The citizens here have generally gone to bed.”

He nodded again and slowly eased the beam he was carrying down to the ground. “You’re here to tell me I should do the same?”

“I am. I’ve got us a cozy tent, and there’s even a bowl of stew in it for you if you play your cards right.” Mostly because she wanted to make him smile, she added, “There aren’t any blowjob cards. Tent’s too flimsy.”

It did earn her a very small smile. “Perhaps the next disaster.”

She held out a hand. “Come on. The stew is getting cold.”

She expected more of a fight. But he sighed and wiped his hand off on his shirt before taking hers and letting her tug him towards the green. “I suppose the work will still be there tomorrow.”

“It will. Unfortunately I think it will be there for some time.”

“Yes. Just when we’d thought it was done.” He glanced back at the ruined houses. “I suppose it was too good to be true.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just squeezed his hand. They’d reached the tent, which was very small, as she doubled the fabric over for insulation and warmth. Inside she had a mattress and bedding she’d nicked from the palace, a small heater and a candle in a hurricane lamp, as they’d run out of electric lamps. His dinner was sitting on top of the heater keeping warm.

He smiled again. “This is very cozy.”

“It was the best I could do.” She nudged him to sit and take off his boots, then brought him his dinner and took off hers. It felt very domestic.

He sat cross legged on the bedding and picked up the stew bowl, taking a spoonful. Once he got the first bite in him, he seemed to realize he was hungry and began to eat in earnest. She smiled, feeling a bit better. She dug in the box she’d brought down and fished out a bottle of ale. “Still sealed,” she told him, holding it out.

He took it, but studied it a moment. “You’re all right if I drink this?”

“I promise not to kick you in the head in a desperate attempt to steal your booze.”

An actual laugh rumbled out of him. “I didn’t think you would. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine. I promise.” And she was. Though she absolutely would have lied if she wasn’t.

He still hesitated a moment, but eventually twisted the top off and drank deep. It was the kind of day one needed an ale.

After scraping the last of the stew out of his bowl, he leaned back with his ale and sighed deep from his soul, staring into the middle distance. 

“Tomorrow will be better,” she said quietly.

“Do you think so?”

“I think it has to be almost by definition.” She reached out and rubbed his leg. “Tomorrow we start setting things right.” 

He nodded, the reached out and caught her, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to his chest. She held on, letting him pull her into his lap. “We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For being here.”

She kissed his shoulder through his shirt. “Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know. I’m just. . . not used to having someone with my during the terrible times.”

Leaning back, she looked up at him. “You take care of me, I take care of you. Whatever happens.”

He smiled faintly. “Promise?”

She reached up to touch his face, the way that had helped him stop the rain with positive emotion. “By the Tree.”

Catching her hand, he pressed a kiss to the palm. “By the Tree,” he repeated softly.

When he’d stopped the rain, it felt like something momentous had happened. An acknowledgement of something neither of them could put words to. This too was a promise with intensity behind it. With permanence. “Won’t all be disaster,” she said. “Sometimes it will be good.”

He nodded, tugging her close again to press his face in her hair. “I will enjoy my good days with you, as well.”

She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Betcha they outnumber the bad, too.”

“I hope they will.” He was quiet a moment. “I suppose we can just beat them into submission if they don’t.”

Valkyrie laughed. “Now you sound like you.”

“The lows can only last so long when I have a beautiful woman in my lap giving me a pep talk.”

“You did really good today, you know? The fire would have been much worse without the rain.”

“When I have time, I should practice it. Loki and the other magic users might be able to help me.”

“If you had to make yourself angry every time you called the lighting, that would take a toll. Though I am happy to help you turn it off.”

He laughed. “That was very clever of you.”

“I didn’t know if it would work. What I’d actually. . . inspire. Maybe you hate anyone reminding you about the eye. Maybe lust would make the storm worse. But I thought if worry made it worse, positive would make it better. And whatever the hell we are, it’s definitely positive.” 

“It made logical sense. And it’s good to know in case of emergency. But you’re right, I need to figure out how to separate it from my emotions.”

“They’ve taken more of a beating than anyone should have to bear,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to use them as a weapon, too.”

He hugged her very tightly, then sighed deeply. “Shall we lay down and try to get some sleep?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” She took his bowl and the ale bottle and set them outside the tent to deal with in the morning. When she returned, he’d arranged the covers, and she crawled in there with him.

She rolled on her side and he tucked himself around her back, kissing her hair. “I like this.”

“Sleeping on expensive bedding in the dirt?”

“Curling up with you. Like we fit together.”

“We do,” she told him. “Like puzzle pieces.” She closed her eyes. “You know, I don’t really believe in fate. . . but you make me wonder.”

“It is a bit of a miracle. The two of us finding each other.”

It sure felt like a miracle sometimes. “On a planet full of garbage.”

“We should pretty that up when we tell the story.”

She was half asleep, listening to his steady breathing, and didn’t think too much about what she said. “Kids love ridiculous stories about wormholes spewing trash.” She felt a flash of panic realizing what she said, and how it sounded like she was talking about _their_ kids. Which she didn’t even know if she wanted, and anyway it was too soon and too heavy to be bringing up.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, kissing her hair. “We should probably skip the orgy ship, though.”

*

In the grand tradition of women’s clothing, Syn’s leathers were far more complicated than Loki’s had ever been. Though he had often simply magicked them off. He could do the same now, of course, but he rather enjoyed unwrapping her a piece at a time.

“You were magnificent today,” he said. “I don’t think I got to tell you that.”

“I don’t know that I did anything noteworthy,” she replied. He managed to unlace the part that was supporting her breasts and she took a deep breath. “But we do make a good team.”

“That we do,” he replied. She’d been skirting the truth when she’d said she was pleased about the betrothal thing, and he didn’t know what to make of that. 

He got her bodice completely undone and eased it off of her. It had left red lines along her ribs and back. He traced his fingertips over them and she shuddered, sucking in a breath.

“I love your touch,” she said quietly. “The difference in our skin temperatures.”

He didn’t know why she liked that, but he loved that she did. “Then I will touch you as long as you wish.”

Her leggings had a buckle and lacing in the front. Rather than turn her, he tugged her against his chest and reached around, carefully undoing it. To his surprise, he’d found he enjoyed these little, casual intimacies. Feeding her, undressing her.

“You will be joining me in the bath, won’t you?” she murmured.

“The point of the bath was to relax you,” he replied. “Help you sleep.” He cupped one of her breasts because he couldn’t help himself.

The nipple tightened and he felt her shiver again. “And you fear you’ll only wind me up further?”

“You can’t possibly think we’re going to sit peacefully together in a bath.” He kissed her shoulder. “Naked. Wet. I don’t trust us.”

“Mmm.” She gave him a glance over her shoulder, eyes half-closed. “I don’t have to be in the bath to be wet.”

He pushed her leggings off her hips. “That I believe.”

She had taken her boots off when she’d sat to eat, so it took only a little maneuvering to get the leggings the rest of the way off, leaving her naked. He found something strangely arousing to be fully dressed while she stood bare in his arms. He flattened a hand on her stomach and she arched a little, pressing back into him.

He slid the hand down between legs, finding her as wet as she’d said. “You know, I spent a lot of magic keeping that bath warm.”

Gasping a little, she managed to get out, “Was that a hint, my darling?”

He stroked a gentle circle around her clit. “You should get in it. But I can’t seem to stop.”

She moaned, then whimpered as he pressed slightly firmer. Her legs trembled and he tightened his other arm around her waist, lifting her enough to take her weight. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, reaching and arm up to curl behind his neck. “Oh please don’t stop.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, picking up speed. “Let go,” he whispered to. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Another little whimper, then his name said on a breathy little gasp. He knew that gasp, loved the sound of it. Because it meant she’d reached her peak. Sure enough, she shuddered, and he felt her begin to pulse against his fingers. He slowed his strokes, drawing it out, tormenting her just a little.

As the waves seemed to slow, she turned her head and pressed it into his neck. Very quietly, but quite distinctly, he heard her whisper, “I love you.”

It had to be true, if she said it, but his stomach twisted anyway. He could quite fathom how anyone could actually love him, after everything he’d done. He certainly didn’t deserve it. He had to force himself to speak, and even then his voice cracked. “I love you back.”

She jumped a little, stiffening. Then she turned in his arms to face him. For a moment, she just looked up at him, eyes wide. Then she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. He sighed, pressing her close and deepening the kiss.

They broke to breathe and she said softly, “I want to be betrothed to you because we’re in love. Not because it’s politically expedient.”

He smiled at her. “You could have started with that.”

“I was a bit concerned the mention of love you send you fleeing into the night.”

He frowned. “I told you I loved you the night you delivered the baby.”

“No you-“ She stopped and frowned, then gave his hair a little tug. “You _implied_ you loved me. Some things a woman needs to hear to be certain.”

“You didn’t say anything. I thought you didn’t want to talk about it. Or you didn’t. . .” He shook his head. “Nobody would blame you.”

“Loki.” She stroked his cheek tenderly. “I do love you. I love your wit and your charm. And how hard you are trying to be a good man. How flummoxed you are when people are nice to you. I will love you until you understand you deserve it.”

He adored her so much he didn’t even have the words for it. “That may take a long time.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “I intend to keep you a very long time.”

“Maybe even make it legal,” he said, kissing her again.

“That would be nice,” she murmured on his mouth, working a hand under his shirt. “King Loki the Trickster, of Alfheim.”

“Will you forgive me if I tell you that’s kind of a turn-on?”

“I will. How many women can say they made a man’s dreams come true?”

He laughed. “I love you, I really do.”

“I love you, too. But you are wearing far too many clothes to join me in that bath.”

“Done,” he murmured, snapping a finger and ridding himself of his clothes. “Better?”

She grinned, leaning back to ogle him properly. “Much.”

He edged her backwards, towards the bathroom. “Bath.”

Holding his hands, she walked backwards, all the way to the edge of the tub. It was still steaming, scented with jasmine and rose. She kept hold of his hands, stepping into the hot water with a groan. He swung his leg over and climbed in with her. He sank down with a sigh and pulled her with him.

She settled against his shoulder and for a few moments they just drifted in the water, enjoying the heat. Syn’s hands trailed along his arms, light and warm, making gentle currents in the water.

He touched her more freely, anywhere he could reach. Something that he would never get enough of. “We shouldn’t lay too long, I’ll make the water cold.”

“When we have a free moment we should go to the hot baths,” she murmured. “Even you can’t beat them.”

He cupped both of her breasts in his hands. “I’ll put it on the list.”

“Do you have a list?” She asked, leaning back to kiss him. “Is my desk on it?”

“Mmmm, it is now.”

“Oh good. It’s been on mine for ages.”

He slid his hands down her stomach and over her thighs, tugging them apart. “We’ll compare notes. Christen our palace.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said softly. He lifted her a bit and she reached between them, nudging his erection into the correct position. When he lowered her again, he slid inside in one smooth stroke. Her body closed around him, hotter than the water around them.

She leaned forward a little, rocking her hips and taking him deeper. He a made a sound that was more growl than anything else. He cupped her waist, to move her more himself. She seemed perfectly content to let him do so, reaching under the water to curl her hands around his wrists.

“Harder,” she murmured, head tipping back.

Orders he was happy to follow. He had a flash of worry that he could hurt her, but he was fast losing any real sense of control. He sat up enough to kiss the back of her shoulder, and then mover her fast enough that water sloshed out of the tub.

“Don’t stop. Please. Please.” The little note of desperation in her voice pushed him a little faster. Then he heard that hitching gasp and he buried himself deep, just in time for the first rough clench of her muscles. Her nails dug into his arms, little pricks of pain against his skin, as she shook and tightened around him. He closed his eyes, letting go, letting her pull him with her. Blood roared in his ears and for a moment it felt so good he couldn’t even breathe.

When he opened his eyes, it was to the sound of her giggling—and the feel of her body shivering. The water was ice cold, and when he lifted his hands out of the water, there were actually little bits of ice on his fingertips.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, knocking the ice off while he was still trying to catch his breath.

The giggles turned to laughter, then chattering teeth. He gave her a boost and she climbed out of the bath, wrapping herself in a thick towel, still grinning at him. “I am _really_ looking forward to a full summer with you.”

“Ice baths probably will sound more fun then.” He looked up at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She crouched down to kiss him. “I’m quite flattered to know I can shatter your control so thoroughly.”

He stood, brushing off pieces of ice and reaching for a towel. “I have never done that before.” He looked down, half expecting some part of him to be blue.

She handed him a towel and it was warm to the touch. She must have added a bit of magic. “Your toes,” she said, pointing. Yep, blue, with trails of color going up his feet.

He was about to cover them with the towel when she crouched to look at them. “Can you turn blue at will?”

“Not without the cask. But of late I have been doing it in times of intense emotion. Ever since I got stabbed by a Dark Elf.”

She straightened and lightly touched the scar on his chest. “When you almost died?”

“Sometimes I think I actually did, for a minute there.”

With a soft sound, she kissed the scar, then his mouth. “Come. There’s a fire in the other room and my toes are numb.”

He put his arms around her. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she replied, tucking herself against his chest. “Very, very much.”


	12. Chapter 12

Thor slept far better than he’d expected to, given the events of the day. At least some of it had to be his sleeping partner, still tucked up against him when he woke up. Valkyrie snored almost as bad as Volstagg had, with the rather adorable addition of little peeps and snuffles when she shifted around. He could probably wake up to that for the rest of his life.

Someday, he’d find a way to tell her that.

He rubbed her back, staring at the top of their tent, debating the merits of staying in bed all damn day.

Eventually he could feel her stir, and make grumpy noises at being awake. She didn’t like waking up, and was angry at each morning like it had personally done her wrong. He upped his back rubbing, since that seemed to help. “Do you want me to go find you tea?”

“Mmm, no, I think I’m okay.” She sat up, taking half the blankets with her. He was cold now, but he did get to watch her stretch.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, trailing a finger down her spine.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, and then looked over her shoulder at him. “Far better than I expected to.”

“Me too. We were exhausted, I suppose.”

She leaned down to kiss him. “Today is going to be a long day, too. We should get at it.”

“Yes. Yes.” He cupped the back of her head to lengthen the kiss. Then he sat and stretched himself.

Valkyrie climbed up and dressed quickly. Back at the palace, she often took her time because she knew he liked to watch. Sometimes she’d only get half dressed before he pulled her back to bed. “I think we should focus on identifying the buildings we _can_ save before we get into dealing with the ones that are clearly gone.”

“That’s probably a good idea. If we can get some of them livable, people can double up while we work on the others.”

She held out her hand to him. “Come on, come on. No rest for the weary.”

He let her haul him up, pausing to tug his boots and overcoat on before following her out of the tent. Others had started to get up as well and were starting small fires to cook breakfast and keep warm. The chill in the air worried him. They didn’t have much time.

Valkyrie patted his arm. “Go make sure everyone did okay overnight and. . . give them a pep talk or something. I’m going to go check on the geothermal plant.”

He didn’t think any pep talk he could come up with would be a much use, but he nodded and went over to the closest cluster of people to crouch down and speak with them.

He didn’t get more than a few words out, when he could hear Valkyrie shouting, “Thor! Come over here!”

In a moment he was on his feet and sprinting towards the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong?” he called, unable to imagine what could possibly be going wrong now. 

When he came running around the corner of a house and to the clearing where the geothermal plant was, he stopped dead. There were dozens of people, clearly dressed for work—boots and belts with hammers and other tools hanging from them. When he turned toward the road, he could see truckloads of lumber and heavy construction equipment and many more people rolling towards them.

Valkyrie was standing a few feet away and he managed to make it over to her. “What’s going on?”

She made a motion at the man standing next to her, and he turned toward Thor. “I am Finn, head of the Alfan Building Guild. We heard about what happened here, and put out a call.” He gestured at the trucks. “I have builders coming from all over Alfheim.”

Thor felt a bit like his brain hadn’t fully woken up. “I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“We’re here to help.” Finn reached out and clapped him on the arm and smile. “Don’t judge us as a people by our bigots.”

Cupping his arm in return he said, “Please feel free to use our people as workers. We want to help, but not be in the way.”

He nodded. “I’d like to do a survey of the damage, and all your blueprints, and then we’ll figure out construction schedule. We’ll get everybody roofed in by winter.”

“Thank you. All of our blueprints are in the main meeting house, when you’re ready.”

He nodded, and turned back to his men. Thor stood there still feeling a little stunned, until Valkyrie tucked her hand in his. “I told you today would be better.”

“You were absolutely correct,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Though I don’t think even you saw this coming.”

“No, I just have really good luck, apparently.”

“Well, of course you do. You found me, didn’t you?”

“You know I got a lot of money for you. A _lot_.”

“You’re only helping my ego,” he told her.

“So this would be a bad time to tell you I considered instead keeping you as a sex slave?”

He grinned. “I don’t even care if you’re joking. I’m going to remember that to keep me warm.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” she said, kissing him on the cheek, and then turning to head back into town.

Feeling the first stirrings of hope, he followed her up.

True to his word, Finn’s men had the geothermal plant up and running well before sunset. A plan was put in place and people went to work on the other buildings in houses. More builders arrived over the next few days and soon they had as many as ten crews working at once. Asgardians joined in where they could, building, hauling and running supplies. Queen Syn herself came down and offered her magical aid as well.

The outpouring of help did a tremendous amount to make rebuilding things they’d just built not seem so miserable. Everyone worked late hours, by big lights hauled in from somewhere or other, as the days got shorter. They worked in wind and rain and cold. He and Valkyrie slept in the tent, even after their rooms at the palace had been vacated. They were too exhausted to commute.

When the burned and flooded houses were rebuilt, and families moved back in, the crews turned to what was still unbuilt. 

“You lost the time you would have been building those to this bullshit,” Finn told him. “So it’s still in our scope.”

While those were being worked on, a group from the local Farmers Guild arrived and worked with them to get the plot of land they’d set aside for crops ready. They’d need to depend on outside produce for several seasons, but it was a good crash course in Alfan crops and by the time the last of their outer buildings were built they had crops of winter squash, cabbage and greens as well as a small berry patch. For some reason that, more than anything, made it feel like they were properly settling in.

He was also building his house. 

By some silent agreement, none of what he’d come to think of as his council built anything until all of the other houses were built. Loki stayed in the palace with Syn, but the rest of them lived in tents. He suspected none of them would go back as long as he stayed, and he was staying. 

Once the building crews were onto the town buildings, they’d turned finally to their own homes, helping each other as best they could, and attracting quite a bit of assistance from others in the town.

With discussing it—without so much as hinting at it—Thor and Valkyrie began building one single house. Was it his? Theirs? He had no idea. Their tent was staked on her plot, but nothing had been said about the unbroken bare dirt behind it. They just walked over to his to hang windows and nail shingles.

“Finn said he has a team that can come help us and the others in another day or two,” he commented, glaring at a level that refused to align. “So we might actually be done by spring.”

“Hey, at least it’s roofed in,” she told him. “Even in its current state we could sleep in here if we had to.”

Instinctively, he glanced up. The roof was intact. Once they had the last of the windows and doors in, he’d be tempted to move in. “Finn says the weather’s been mild up till now.” Which was a little terrifying. “After midwinter, no one will want to be in a tent.”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions on a battlefield.” She smiled at him. “But it will be nice. Maybe even build some furniture.”

“A nice big, sturdy bed?” he suggested.

That got him a bigger grin. “Yes.” They had gotten pretty good at silent sex with minimal undressing. It would be nice to roll around a bed again.

“I will take carpentry classes immediately,” he informed her, finally happy with his window alignment.

“I’ve been thinking. . .” she started.

There was no reason he should find that ominous. “About what?”

“If it’s getting on time to plant the Tree?”

He took a deep breath and leaned back, looking up at the roof again. They hadn’t been putting it off intentionally. There’d just been so much else to do. But it probably was time. “We should,” he agreed. “And throw a big party afterwards.”

She grinned. “That sounds like a great idea.”

Unable to resist, he crossed to her and kissed her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She made a happy humming noise, cupping the back of his neck with one hand. They swayed together, kissing and holding each other.

When he lifted his head, it was only enough to murmur, “I love you.”

She inhaled sharply, and then he felt her relax. “I love you, too. At least I think that’s what I feel. It’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember how.”

He smiled, resting his forehead on hers. “I think you’re doing just fine.”

She stroked his cheek, and quietly asked, “It’s why I stopped the rain, isn’t it?”

“I think so, yes. You settle the stormy parts of me.”

She hugged him, burying her face in his neck and murmuring, “Good.”

He rubbed her back, rocking her gently. “I look forward to living here with you.”

They hadn’t discussed it, and she was so still he wondered if he’d upset her by mentioning what seemed so obvious. But then he heard her mumble, “Me too.”

Pressing a kiss to her hair, he rubbed her back again and held her until she was ready to move. Eventually she leaned back and said, “Okay, let me check that window. Your depth perception is still shit.”

They planted the Tree the next sunny afternoon. Heimdall assured them that because it was magic, as long as they got it in the ground before the first frost, it would be fine. It was an occasion both solemn and festive. Valkyrie held his hand while they watched Heimdall put it in the ground. Thor made a little speech, and then people broke out the roasting spits. Someone had even gotten some honey from the palace stores and attempted to make mead. It wasn’t much like what had been made on Asgard, but it was familiar enough. 

The party went on until the rains started up. When they got back to their house he discovered that at some point Valkyrie had snuck away and moved the contents of their tent into their house, making a comfy looking nest in a way that reminded him of the night after the fire. The walls were unfinished and it didn’t even have heat, but it was dry, and it was theirs. Everyone was safe and dry and inside tonight. Somehow, they’d made it.

The second Asgardian baby was born the next day.

*

Winter was a quiet time in the Alfan Capital. There was an old country saying that Alfheim hibernated with the bears. Hilde and some of her more conservative council members were insisting Syn needed to throw a betrothal ball to “introduce” Loki to the people. She thought the last thing anyone wanted to do was dress up for a ball in the middle of Midwinter chaos. They had already made a formal announcement of the engagement, a ball seemed overkill.

Then she got an idea that was sure to make her betrothed roll his eyes so she had to try it.

“If I let you borrow the Cask could you freeze a lake without destroying anything?” she asked, dangling over the back of the chaise lounge he was sitting in, waiting for her to get ready for breakfast.

“By ‘destroy’ do you mean ‘accidentally kill the fish’ or ‘lose my mind and try to take over the government’?”

She paused. “Somewhere in the middle.”

“I am happy with the current trajectory of my non-violent crown acquisition. Your throne is safe. I’m less certain about the fish.” He turned. “Why?”

Straightening, she started braiding her hair. “I was thinking that instead of a stuffy ball, we host some sort of winter festival. Hot chocolate, mulled wine. Ice skating. Maybe small presents for the local children. It would get my advisors off my back and might be a nice new tradition.”

Loki tilted his head, like he was considering it. “I can make all sorts of cool things out of ice.”

“I find that very sexy and will ignore the pun.”

“Then yes, I’ll freeze the lake. I might even ice skate.” 

“Thank you, I love you,” she singsonged, tying off her braid and tugging his hand. “I am ready for breakfast.”

He stood up, letting her pull him. “Are there any quaint Midwinter traditions I should know about? Anything involving me having to wear an undignified costume?”

“No, no silly costumes. Gifts are exchanged, large meals are had with family. You may hear a story about a witch and a cat.”

“I suppose I should learn your realms mythology, shouldn’t I?”

“There’s not too many. I have a book you can borrow. We don’t have any gods, per se, but we do honor our ancestors and respect nature spirits.” She wound her arm through his as they entered the dining room. “We bury our dead in tombs or catacombs.”

“We did that at one point,” Loki said. “Hela raised all the bodies in the catacombs to be her undead army.”

“I’m sorry I missed that. I’ve never fought undead.”

“I was beating them with my helmet at one point.”

She smiled brightly. “So that thing _does_ have a practical use?”

“Desperate times,” he said as they reached the dining room.

Since the others had moved down to the village, they didn’t see them as much. However, Bruce had asked for some time to speak to them about some of his research. It had seemed easiest to invite everyone to breakfast and get some pleasant conversation in as well. Thor and Valkyrie had already arrived and were helping themselves to the buffet.

“Good morning, brother,” Thor called cheerfully. “Queen Syn.”

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “I’ve convinced your brother to help me throw a winter festival.”

“Did you do this by clubbing him over the head with something heavy?” Valkyrie asked.

“No, I asked very nicely. I can be very persuasive.”

“Were you naked when you asked?”

Loki gave her a glare as he went to get food but Syn grinned. She was in far too good a mood to be teased. “I’ll never tell.”

“Well, I’m always up for a party,” Valkyrie said.

They took their seats, still waiting for Bruce. To fill the time Syn commented, “You know, Thor, it’s occurred to me that if you’re to be a Lord of Alfheim you’ll need a title.”

He tilted his head. “What sort of title?”

“A descriptive appellation I think it’s called in the law books.” She gestured to herself. “Truthful.” A gesture to Loki. “Trickster. It’s usually given at adulthood by ones parents or other relatives.” Of course, Loki had gotten his as a pet name that had somehow become official, but nothing about their relationship was standard.

“Does that mean that I get to come up with it?” Loki asked, sounding positively delighted, yet also very sinister.

Thor looked honestly pained, so Syn said, “You can _help_. I should think Valkyrie should get a say, as well.” She looked down at them. “You seem to be his next of kin, so to speak.”

The other woman looked startled. “Well I—I mean I’m. . .” She trailed off. “I’m not very creative.”

“I am,” Loki said.

“Just keep him in line,” Syn told her, hooking a thumb at him.

“That I _am_ good at.”

“You could ask Heimdall,” Thor suggested. “He’s known me since I was born. Rolled his eyes at me plenty, handed out sage advice. Etc.”

“Your title would be Thor the Moron Who Once Hurled Half a Car Through the Bifrost,” Loki said. “He was annoyed about that for quite a while.”

“That will be very difficult to fit on stationary,” Syn mused.

The doors crashed open and Banner arrived, Muir, his scholar girlfriend with him, still looking rather shy about being in the palace. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“We’re just eating breakfast,” Thor said. “No rush.”

They got their plates and took seats. Once they’d eaten a bit and exchanged the usual pleasantries, Banner cleared his throat. “So, I’ve been researching your genetics.”

“Which one of us?” Thor asked.

“All of you. Well, mostly Alfans, but you were needed for comparison.” 

Syn was glad she wasn’t the only one who looked confused. “And?”

“As near as I can tell, Asgardians and Alfans are genetically related. Strongly. I’m guessing there’s a common ancestor, though it could be that Asgard essentially colonized Alfheim.”

The was a moment of silence. “Wait,” Thor said. “Are you saying we’re all the same people?”

“Genetically speaking, yes. There are even some common markers with human genetics, which might be an argument for common ancestor race that spread out amongst the realms.”

Muir looked over at Loki and Syn. “We were wondering if his Consortness would be willing to donate a sample. To see if there’s commonality with the Jotuns as well.”

“That seems kind of. . . unlikely,” Loki said, sounding vaguely uncomfortable.

Syn picked up her tea and took a healthy swig to prevent anything unfortunate slipping out.

Muir looked cowed, but Bruce said, “It’s up to you. It’s been explained to me why you’re sensitive about it, but given you look like Asgardians, I’m wondering if there’s surprises in your genes.”

“As best I can tell, my appearance is magic,” he replied.

“The best we could tell five minutes ago, Alfans and Asgardians were different species,” Thor said.

“I’m not going to force you,” Banner said. “Or anyone. But I would like to talk to the Asgardians to get some more samples. This isn’t something your scientists have thought to dig into and the breakthrough has got everyone’s attention.”

Loki tapped his fingers on the table. “Would your research be able to tell me anything about our. . . compatibility? Our rather long odds have some of the more anxious types very worried. Heirs to the throne and all. It would be good to. . .know. One way or the other.”

Syn bit the inside of her lip and took a deep breath as Banner answered. “It would certainly tell us if you were incompatible. Guaranteeing breeding is more complicated, it really depends what we find. If you _do_ have the same genetic structure as Asgardians then it should be very likely.”

“All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

Banner looked delighted and Muir perked up. “I brought equipment. We can do it before we leave.”

He looked faintly alarmed. “What does it require?”

“Oh! Just a cheek swab. Or a little blood, if you prefer.”

“I don’t see how that’s preferable to a cheek swab.”

Banner just shrugged and Syn had to laugh. “I’ve always wanted a royal mad scientist.”

“I will happily accept that as my official court title,” he replied.

“It suits you.”

“Thank you, all of you, for helping with my research. It’s been fascinating.”

“Do we want to share this publicly?” Thor asked.

“I think it would help,” Syn offered. “It would be shocking, but it might put some minds at ease. Asgard isn’t invading, it’s coming home. That sort of thing.”

“Perhaps forestall any future pinheaded ceremonial burnings,” Valkyrie added.

“I will take any weapons to offset more rebels.”

“I imagine it’s going to get out through the scholarly community anyway,” Thor commented with a gesture to Bruce.

He nodded. “There’s going to be a lot of papers to publish.”

“That may be the easiest way to do it. Not a proclamation from the throne.”

“You might want to leak it to the press,” Muir suggested. “They’re not all that interested in scientific papers without someone feeding them a juicy headline.”

“I will put you in touch with my PR people,” Syn told her. “They’ll know the best way to go about it.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We’ll try to put together an understandable brief.”

“They can probably help with that, too.”

“Leave me out of whatever you publish,” Loki said. “If you don’t mind.”

Banner nodded. “Of course. I’ll keep the findings between us.”

“Thank you.” He patted Syn on the arm. “Dear Heart, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a walk.”

She gave him a look of concern. “Of course. Do you want company?”

“No, no, enjoy the rest of your meal. I’m just going to get some air.”

She nodded and watched him leave, concerned. When she turned back to the group, she saw Thor had a similar expression. “I’ll talk to him,” Thor said finally.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

The Midwinter Festival was likely to cause enormous traffic backups, so Thor and Valkyrie went up to the Capitol the night before and slept in the palace. They were still sleeping on the floor in their half-finished house—which did at least now have heat—and a night in the bed was heavenly. She could probably blame the wonderful mood she woke up in on that. 

On the other hand, she’d been blaming a number of odd symptoms on all sorts of things. The work, the weather, being tired or well rested, being hungry or having overeaten. Yesterday she’d woken up inexplicably feeling like she wanted to punch someone. 

Or, she could blame them all on what was most likely the actual cause—which was her hormones were all over the place. It had been a very long time, but she sort of recognized the feeling. Her Time was coming. And she had no idea what in hell to do with that.

Thor, bless him, seems completely oblivious to it, perfectly happy to run and get her a snack or ignore her sour mood. He was excited about the festival and seeing his brother show off his powers. They were going to try to work together to make it snow, which had to be some sort of metaphor for them getting over their problems.

Breakfast was set out, but they didn’t see Syn and Loki, as they were busy with planning.

“Have you ever ice skated?” Thor asked her as they were sipping the last of their tea.

She shook her head. “Not since I was a little girl.”

“Loki’s going to freeze the lake. I was wondering if I could coax you out.”

Well, she was unlikely to lose control and ravish him in the middle of a public ice-dance. It would be useful if for nothing but that. “You’re making an adorable face, so I’ll consider it.”

“That’s all I ask.”

She leaned over to kiss him. She couldn’t say no to him on a normal day when he looked at her like that. It would be fine.

The festival started up mid morning. Loki had clearly been busy. The lake was frozen over and he’d made several blocks of ice, some of which he’d carved, others he’d left square for others to take a crack at.  
It was similar to the Midsummer festival in that there was food and wine and lots of people. Syn and Loki gave out little toys and treats to the children brave enough to come up to them.

Just before the sun set, Loki and Thor put their heads together and managed to make it snow.

Syn was standing with Valkyrie, watching their men work together. Syn smiled softly, watching them. “He’s changed so much.”

“They both have,” Valkyrie replied. “I think.” She shook her head. “And lord knows I have.”

“It’s been a very eventful half year.” She crossed her arms and smiled that secret smile of hers. “Who knows what the next half will bring.”

“Possibly something terrifying,” Valkyrie muttered.

“Well, we can’t rule it out,” Syn agreed.

She looked over at Syn, then back out at the lake. They seemed to be trying to refine the snowflake size. “Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?”

There was a moment of hesitation before she answered. “Yes.”

“Do you feel that, as a ruler, you are obligated to reproduce?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, considering. “I do. A bit. As much as I might like to tell my advisors to go fuck themselves when the go on about Loki and my compatibility, I am the last of my family. There’s not even a distant cousin to leave the throne to. This realm has already seen two power shifts in recent history. I don’t know how a succession panic would be handled.”

“I’ve been thinking similarly,” Valkyrie replied. “On a smaller scale. If Thor doesn’t have children, the hereditary leadership of our people—what ever he eventually decides to call it other than King—would then pass to Loki. Effectively to you. You can imagine the optics there.”

Syn shook her head. “According to Alfan law, if Loki and I marry he’d have to give up his claim to any other titles. So he couldn’t inherit. You’d have to name a successor.”

“I’m sure that wouldn’t provoke any sort of infighting.” For the first time in a while, she desperately wanted a drink. “Few as we are, I suppose everyone has an obligation to reproduce.”

“So Dr. Banner keeps saying. Though he also says there’s little difference between you and I genetically, so perhaps it’s all a moot point.”

“There’s enough to be distinct. We are physically stronger, you have more magic. We have our children somewhat differently.” 

She inclined her head. “I suppose that’s what makes it interesting.”

“My people think so, anyway.” She took her sweater off because she was suddenly uncomfortably warm. The next week was just going to be a barrel of laughs, she could tell. 

After a pause, Syn said very carefully, “Is there anything that is causing you to think about procreation?”

She couldn’t exactly lie. “Remember what we were telling you about the Fertile Time? I seemed to have summoned it by speaking its name.”

“Ah. Debating whether to act on it?”

“Debating if I should lock myself into a guest room in the other wing of the palace.” She sighed. “I am Asgardian. We need to reproduce. I just didn’t think I’d have to address the topic so soon.”

“If I understand correctly, it will be centuries before you have another?”

“Probably.”

She nodded. “Will you tell Thor?”

“It may be obvious. I literally will need a door with a lock, you can’t trust yourself. But it does feel like I should discuss this with him. It’s just. . .heavy. It’s too much.”

“It is far from the heaviest thing he’s dealt with in the past few months,”

“Doesn’t mean I want to add to his burden.”

“I don’t know him as well as you. But I would think he’d be hurt if you didn’t talk to him.”

“He would,” she said quietly.

“I would think that would be worse than the burden.”

“He will likely tell me he’s happy to do whatever I want. Even if that isn’t true. And I don’t know what I want.”

“I would suggest twisting his arm until he admits what he wants. And see how you feel about that.” She looked up at Valkyrie. “It’s not the end of the world to disagree with your lover. He may be disappointed, but he will get over it. And sometimes being handed an answer tells you what you really want.”

She smiled. “That sounds like very sage advice.”

“Being in a relationship with Loki requires a certain amount a finesse. You learn fast.”

Valkyrie reached out and squeezed her arm. “Thank you. I’m going to go. . . see if I can ice skate. I promised him I would.”

“Good luck. I’m awful at it.”

She laughed, and made her way down to the edge of the lake. She came up next to Thor and tucked her hand around his arm. He smelled unbelievably good. “Nice snow.”

He grinned and tipped his head back. “It is. I can’t remember the last time Loki and I actually made something together.”

“I believe I promised you some ice-skating,” she said.

“You did.” The grin widened and he covered her hand with his. “Let’s go.”

She leaned over to look at Loki and asked, “Skates?”

He smiled and waved a hand, and she felt herself lifting up as they appeared on her feet.

They toddled carefully onto the ice and glided. Thor had, apparently, skated more recently then she had and seemed to pick up again easily. He held her hand and helped her get he balance, and in a few minutes they were taking laps around the lake.

He even managed to spin her around like they were dancing. With the snow falling, sticking to their hair and clothes, making the air feel still and clean. . . it was nearly magical. “This is better than midsummer,” she said.

“You like snow better than bonfires.” He tucked her close to his chest. “Duly noted.”

She nuzzled the fabric of his sweater. “I wanted to take you to bed with me that night, I really did.”

“I’m glad we waited,” he admitted. “Things were still very fresh then.”

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” Though they probably were still too new to discuss children—not that they had a choice. Syn was right about that. They needed to deal with this together. Which was hard because her brain was starting to scream full blast that she should just take him back to their room right now, and do anything but talk.

“From you electrocuting me in a junk yard? Yes, a great deal of progress.”

She laughed and looked up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as smiled back at her. It wouldn’t hurt to lean up and kiss him just once. He sighed when their lips touched, giving her a little squeeze around the waist. He even tasted better than he usually did.

“You feel different,” he murmured. “Softer.”

“I’m not drunk,” she said, the first thing that popped into her head.

“I didn’t think you were.” He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “Maybe you’re happy.”

“I am,” she replied. “I am.” She kissed him again.

“So am I.” He had carefully edged them closer to the shore. “Do you want to go back to the palace?”

They needed to talk. They should talk. But he was warm and smelled so good and she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the moment. “Yes.”

He kissed her again and helped her off the ice. A few steps on the snow and the skates seemed to melt away, leaving her in her boots. Loki’s magic was occasionally very handy. They hiked back inside, pausing in the vestibule to kiss again. Dragging him into a nearby storage closet was sounding very appealing.

“You’re very enthusiastic,” he told her, backing her down the hall as she worked her hands under his coat. 

“Mmm,” she mumbled in reply, getting her fingers under all the layers of cloth so she could touch his skin. She had to stop. She had to.

They reached their room and crashed inside. Thor slammed the door and pinned her to it, shrugging out of his coat and yanking her sweater up. They pulled off clothes, breaking the kiss only when they had to, fabric ripping all over the place. She’d never felt desperation like this. Whatever happened would happen. He’d forgive her. He forgave all kinds of things, no matter what it cost him.

“Wait,” she gasped finally, reaching for her last strands of sense. “Wait, we need to stop.”

He sucked in a breath and leaned back, bracing his hands on the door. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk. And I really need you to go over on the other side of the room.” She ran her hands over his chest and almost lost her nerve. She just wanted to lick his skin. “And maybe put on a shirt.”

He looked utterly baffled, but bless the man, he pushed himself off the door and walked to the other end of the room, bending to scoop a shirt off the floor and tug it on as he did so. This gave her a marvelous view of his ass and she almost lost her nerve again.

She wrapped her arms around herself because it was a little chilly in there. “So I. . . seem to be having my Time.”

His brow furrowed, then his eyes popped wide. “Oh. _Oh_.” He cleared his throat. “Do you. . . do you want me to go?”

“No. I don’t know.” She thumped her head back against the door. “But I shouldn’t just let my hormones decide for us.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned back on the wall, head tipped back. “You know, I hadn’t given much thought to children. There was so much going on, I suppose I thought we’d have time to sit and talk about it.”

“So did I. But I have no idea if or when this will happen again. All that time on Sakaar. . . I don’t even know how old I am.”

“Do you want children?” He asked. 

“A couple months ago I would have told you no way, but. . .” She shook her head. “Maybe the new me is different. We’re starting over, right? We should repopulate. And you need an heir.”

“I do need an heir and we do need to repopulate. But I don’t want you to have a baby you don’t want. Hormones or no.”

“Do _you_ want to?”

He was quiet a few very long heartbeats. She braced herself for the “I want what you want” answer and hoped she had the patience for the run around.

“I do,” he said finally. “Beyond an heir and repopulation. I’d like a child with you.”

She watched him a moment. “Are you certain?”

He nodded. “But if you aren’t ready, I’ll wait and hope we get another chance.”

“I’m kind of terrified,” she said honestly. “But I’ve never been a coward. I don’t know how good I’ll be at mothering. You might have to do all the work.”

“I happen to think I’ll be a very good mother,” he said with a small smile.

She felt tears prick her eyes, and she blamed the hormones. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Do you want me to go? Or continue ripping my clothes off?” 

She pushed off the wall. “I will take option B,” she said, certain of it as soon as the words came out. “I think we’d made some gorgeous babies.”

“I agree.” He took a step forward and she took one and the next thing she knew she’d cleared the bed and was in his arms, kissing him. He made a little startled noise, but held her, lifting her up when she wrapped her legs around him.

Not having to hold back was exhilarating. “Take off this shirt or I’ll shred it.”

He had to shift her a bit, but they got the shirt off mostly intact. Two steps forward brought them to the bed and he collapsed on it, running his hands down her sides. She still had underwear on, for some reason, and she lifted her hips to try and get off—and he just ripped it. She raised her eyes to his. “Do you feel it, too?”

“You feel different,” he said, sounding a little confused. “Smell different. It’s hard to explain.”

She grinned. “I’d always wondered.” Then she kissed him as she got his pants off, too. No patience, no foreplay. She reached between their bodies to guide him inside her, and then straightened as she sank down. Maybe it was just the filling of a primal urge, but nothing in her entire life had felt quite so good or quite so right.

He groaned, gritting his teeth, hands curling around her hips. His fingers dug into her and he was breathing harshly, but he let her move at her own speed, watching her with hooded lids. She moved through her haze of lust, head tipped back, just enjoying how it felt. Liking that he was watching her. Her skin tightened and she felt things twisting and turning inside. She opened her eyes again to look down at him. Their eyes met and held as she hung right on the edge, and she whispered little, “Please…”

Holding her gaze, he slid a hand around and found her clit with his fingers. They’d been sharing a bed - and tent - long enough he knew her well, stroking just the way she needed to push her farther. Her eyes fluttered and pleasure crashed over her. Whatever sound she made, she didn’t really pay attention to. It was so intense and overwhelming that the room seemed to spin.

Dimly, she was aware of him pressing up into her, all but growling as he came as well.

She tumbled bonelessly down onto his chest. “I adore you,” she mumbled.

His hands came up to rub her back. “I cannot remember words right now. But I think I agree.”

She hummed contentedly. “Now that I’ve got the desperate out of my system, we can do it again properly.”

“The way I hear it, we’ll be doing it many times the next few days.”

“We will. You should brace yourself. I think we’re going to discover every last way it’s possible to do it.”

“I will try to be up for the challenge,” he told her solemnly.

“I have an endless amount of faith in you.”

Lifting a hand, he cupped a breast. “As do I in you.”

She grinned and kissed him. “We’re in for a long night.”

*

In Loki’s estimation, it had been something of a perfect day.

The Winter Festival had gone wonderfully. He’d made all kinds of things with ice, had frozen the lake and even worked with Thor to make it snow. Not once had he turned blue and no one had looked at him with fear or suspicion. Rarely had he been able to use his powers so freely.

Syn had had a good time. She’d been a terrible ice skater, but it have given him an excuse to hold her close in front of everyone. She’d been a little off the last few weeks, but today she’d been all but glowing.

The party had broken up much earlier that Midsummer and they’d retired to their rooms tired but still wound up. They hadn’t even made it to the bed, collapsing in the pile of carpet and furs in front of the fire.

Now he lay with his head on her stomach, watching the firelight dance on her skin, as she stroked her fingers through his hair. He knew they should probably move to the bed, but he didn’t think he had the energy to do so.

“Are you awake,” she murmured, trailing her fingertips on his shoulder.

He chuckled. “Somewhat?”

“I have something I need to tell you. I’m not entirely sure how you’ll react. But it’s becoming very hard to keep it in.”

She sounded so serious he was actually worried, so he pushed up on one elbow to look at her. “What is it?”

She chewed her lip a moment, then said very quietly, “I’m with child.”

He was so surprised, he sat all the way up. “You.. . what?”

Propping up on her elbows she said, “I’m pregnant.” He was still staring and she added, “We’re having a baby.”

He felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.” She sat up fully, tugging a blanket to cover herself and curling her legs up to her chest. “I’ve suspected for a while, but didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. But it’s large enough I can sense it. So, I’m certain.”

“How. . . how is that possible?”

“Oh. Right.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Alfan women aren’t like Asgardian women. We don’t have cycles. We just. . . it’s hard to predict, but it’s usually connected to being with someone you want a child with. I think the night of the fire, when we first said I love you. There was a lot of emotion and things were very intense. . .”

You honestly could have knocked him over with a feather. He had no idea what to say, or feel. “I didn’t. . . I didn’t think it was going to be biologically possible. Is it. . .” He swallowed. “Is it healthy?”

Her face softened. “Oh, darling. Yes. It’s healthy.” She scooted forward and caught his hand, then pressed it against her stomach. He felt the warm glow of her magic soak into his hand, then, faintly, a tiny flutter of something under his palm. It felt. . . cozy and safe and content.

“Hi, there,” he whispered, in absolute awe.

“Ah.” She kissed his cheek. “That’s the reaction I was hoping to see.”

“You didn’t think I’d be happy?”

“I was concerned you’d be upset. You are very sensitive about the topic.”

“I’m terrified,” he said. “I’ll probably be a terrible father—look at the example I had. Not to mention. . .” he trailed off, trying to find the words. “What if it comes out blue?”

“I think you will be a good father, because you will treat them the way you wish you had been treated.” She stroked his cheek. “And if it is blue, then we will have a blue child and Alfheim will have a blue heir. And everyone will learn to love blue.”

“Your people aren’t going to accept that. They’re struggling with the Asgardians who look exactly the same.”

“A small group of them struggled with it. Most of them accepted them willingly. And, may I point out, we never battled the Jotuns, Asgard was our boogeymen.”

He sighed. “Perhaps I’m not giving the Alfans enough credit.”

“What happens will happen,” she told him, stroking his hair. “We will deal with it.”

“I thought there would be warning. That we’d, you know, decide. So I’m just a little off kilter.”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you, about how we work. But it’s an awkward conversation on the best of days and there never seemed to be a good time.”

“If I’m honest. . . I’m a tiny bit disappointed there won’t be a day where you pin me to the bed and that’s literally all we do for the better part of the week. To hear other men tell, it’s pretty wild.”

“Darling.” She snuggled against him. “I can do that any time you wish.”

He could work with that. “When will the baby come?”

“Around midsummer. I should be able to tell gender soon. And I should see an actual midwife. I didn’t want anyone else to know before you did.”

“Can I tell my brother? It would help to. . . talk about it. So I don’t spin around in my own head.”

“Of course. I’ll need to tell Hilde.” She cleared her throat. “Though if what you say about an Asgardian’s Time is true, we may not see Thor for a few days.”

He turned his head, one eyebrow up. “Oh, really?”

“Valkyrie and I had a chat, she seemed to think hers was here. I didn’t hear anything about her getting her own room with a sturdy lock, so. . .” She made an elegant gesture with her hand.

“Well,” he said after a moment. “I’m happy we got there first.”

She laughed. “So yours can beat up his?”

“I like being first is all.” He grinned. “Is that so bad?”

“No, not at all.” Winding her arms around his neck, she started to play with his hair again. “I’m happy. I know you’re worried and you have every right to feel that way. But I’m very happy.”

“I can be happy and terrified at the same time.”

He felt as much as heard her laugh and she settled her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed having a family,” she said softly.

“So have I. And I’ve never had a blood relative before. It will be a new experience.”

“It will be very magical.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He paused. “That might be a another point in the terrified column.”

“I think we’re up to the task.”

“I love you,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

She sighed softly and he felt the last of the tension drain from her. “I love you back.”

“Want to see if we can drag ourselves to our actual bed?”

“That would be nice. I may even pin you to it.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Loki woke up in the best mood he’d been in in quite a while. Syn was still asleep, and he tiptoed out to flag down someone to bring them breakfast in their room.

In the kitchen, he found a rumpled Thor doing the same. He had a very obvious hickey on his neck and his shirt was only half tucked in. He was grinning like a fool, though and slammed Loki on the back when he saw him. “Good morning brother.”

Loki coughed. “Apparently. I’m surprised she let you out.”

His cheeks pinked, which was hilarious. “She’s resting. How did you-?”

“Syn,” he said. “Apparently women talk about that sort of stuff.”

“Ah. Well, yes.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I suppose there’s a good chance you’ll be an uncle by the next rainy season.”

“And yet I will beat you to it by Midsummer.”

Thor was clearly not awake enough for wordplay. He looked confused a heartbreaking amount of time before his face cleared and he broke into a wide smile. “You’re - Is Syn-?”

He was probably grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t really care. “Apparently we are capable of breeding after all.”

To his utter dismay, Thor reached out and swept him into a hug. “Congratulations, brother,” he said softly.

Loki hugged him back, because it was that kind of day. “Thank you.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Thor admitted, leaning back. “I’m happy for you.”

“I am happy for you. Though I always assumed you’d eventually have a houseful of little oafs running around.”

He grinned like an idiot. Loki supposed this was the one day he couldn’t complain about it. “I was starting to doubt it. But I think she and I will have beautiful babies for yours to play tricks on.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Both the babies and the tricks. She’ll keep yours from being excessively blonde.”

“She will. Perhaps Syn will save yours from being excessively evil.”

He laughed. “Let’s hope. I don’t know that I’d put money on that, to be honest.”

Thor laughed with him. “For now, we should probably bring our women some food, eh? Keep up their strength.”

“Indeed. If legend is to be believe, I won’t see you again until sometime next week.”

That got another stupid grin. “I’m sure I’ll be sent out for more food.”

Loki honestly felt like whistling as he walked back to their room. Next year was going to be a good year.

*

Thor carried the breakfast he’d put together back to their room. Valkyrie was sound asleep when he let himself back in—enough that she was snoring. He put the tray down and went to open the window. She’d be annoyed because it was so cold out, but it honestly smelled like bordello in there and some fresh air was needed.

He stood there a moment, looking out at the blanket of snow. It had stopped falling, but the gardens outside the guest quarters had been thoroughly coated in white. It was very peaceful.

From the bed he heard a mumbled, “Is that bacon?”

“It is,” he confirmed, tugging the curtains closed before turning to her. 

“Leave them open, it’s nice out,” she said, peeling back the covers.

“Well, if I didn’t know something was off already, that would do it.” He walked over and brought the tray to the bed. “Breakfast, my lady.”

She picked up a piece of cold bacon and ate it in two bites. She nudged him. “You eat, too.”

“If you insist.” He grabbed a buttered roll and took a bite. “How do you feel?”

“Not in any way sore. Which really surprises me, considering.” She ate more bacon. “What about you? You don’t have the hormone thing goin on.”

“I’m feeling a bit stunned, but mostly all right.” He smiled. “Oh, Syn is pregnant.”

She gave a little gasp and put her hands over her mouth. “Really?”

“Yes. I ran into Loki in the kitchens. Come Midsummer, I’ll be an uncle.”

She moved the tray to the nightstand. “I wish you could see the adorable smile on your face.”

“I imagine it’s similar to the goofy grin on my brother’s when I saw him.”

“It makes you look delicious,” she told him, coming close to kiss him.

“Mm.” He cupped the back of her head. “I think anything would make me look delicious right now.”

She crawled into his lap, hands under his shirt. “That a complaint?” 

“No, not at all. Just setting proper expectations.” He lifted his arms so she could take his shirt off. He sighed, and dipped her back onto the bed. They could eat later.

That was about how the next three days went. Occasionally he ventured out for food. They slept tangled up at all angles on the bed. He honestly lost track of how many times they had sex.

On the morning of the fourth day he fetched their breakfast as usual, opening the window to let fresh air in. She woke grumbling about the cold and he smiled. “Has the madness passed?”

She seemed to be considering it. “Maybe? I feel a little more myself. But in the past it’s always been more like a week.”

He munched his bacon. “Could that mean it. . . worked?”

Valkyrie looked down at her stomach like it would tell her something. “Uh, maybe?”

Tucking an arm around her, he drew her close and kissed her temple. “What would you say to a bath after our meal?”

“Are you finally sore?”

“I think we may be finding my limits,” he admitted. “Also, I think we both smell.”

She laughed. “Then a bath sounds lovely. I promise not to molest you.”

“Thank you. I’ll scrub your back for you.”

The madness definitely seemed to have abated, as they floated together in warm water without any wandering hands. Which was good, because he was about done. Naked and soapy in a warm bath didn’t stir much of anything.

When they were dried and dressed - fully dressed, what a novelty - he said, “So. Ready to go home?”

She laughed. “We probably should, shouldn’t we?”

“I shudder to think what could have moved into the house while we were gone. We could have to share it with squirrels now.”

“I’ll train them as pets,” she replied. “It’ll be fine.”

“Valkyrie and her army of squirrels. I like it.”

As it turned out, the house had not been taken over by squirrels, or any other forrest creature. It had, however, been taken over by furniture. Kitchen cabinets, table and chairs, sofa and bookshelves—and that was just what they could see from the front door. Someone had even hung curtains.

Thor actually stepped outside to make sure it was the right house. “We should go away for several nights more often.”

She wandered further inside, toward the bedroom. “There’s a bed!” she called back.

“Does it look sturdy?” He asked, following her back.

“Very.” When he got there she’d sprawled out on it. It was ornate carved wood, far nicer than anything they’d have built.

He ran a hand along the footboard. “Who do you think did this?”

“I honestly didn’t know anyone liked us this much.”

“Loki was the only one who knew we’d be gone. He usually signs his work, though.”

“Maybe we’re meant to look for it,” she suggested. “Like a scavenger hunt.”

“Well, we may as well explore and find everything they left us.” He held a hand out for her. “What room next?”

She let him pull her up. “All we have left is the bathroom and that weird guest room/closet thing.” They’d built the house of the two-bedroom blueprints, so they could eat half the second bedroom to make a big bathroom with a tub. Valkyrie had felt very strongly about the tub. In hindsight it had been obvious this house was ‘theirs’ from the very beginning. 

Now it had a huge bathroom—which looked about how they left it, fixtures in, but the floor and walls covered in boards awaiting tile. Apparently their benefactor didn’t do bathrooms. Though there were new fluffy towels hanging over the side of tub. “These are palace towels,” she commented.

“Clearly Syn was in on it as well.” They stepped out into the hallway and, on a whim, he pushed open the door to the spare room.

They’d made a lot of jokes about it being where they’d shove Loki when he and Syn were fighting and he showed up on their door. He half expected it to be decorated in gilt and green and dark wood. Instead it was yellow, with a little white dresser, rocking chair, and cradle. 

Valkyrie made a little sound when she saw it. Thor stepped inside, feet sinking into a plush white carpet. The cradle had a quilt and what looked like a hand knit blanket. And a little stuffed snake. “Ah,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “The signature.”

He felt her slide an arm around her waist as she came up next to him. “Should I stand back in case it explodes?”

“It hasn’t stabbed me yet. He usually doesn’t have much patience.”

She pushed the cradle and it rocked. “It’s possible it didn’t work. I mean, it’s not 100%. But. . .this is really sweet.”

“It is,” he agreed. He kissed her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She pulled him towards the door. “Come on, let’s see what’s in the kitchen. I’ll make us some food.” 

“That might make me love you even more.”

They cobbled together dinner, and then curled up on the sofa. Their bookcases had been stocked and they both found something to read. It was an almost impossibly calm and contented evening. Thor remembered having a peaceful evenings like this on Midgard, during that brief period of time he lived with Jane, before the collapse of SHIELD and Tony calling him back to war. 

It grew late and they went to settle in their new bed, Thor curled around her back. “I think I’m going to like being a simple village Lord,” he admitted.

“I think that’s good,” she said. “I will enjoy being a simple village Lady. Bear your heirs. Install bathroom tile. Have spa days with the Queen.”

“It does sound like a lovely life.” He kissed her shoulder.

“It sounds peaceful. Like it won’t involve bloodshed. Like my sword will get dull and rusty over the mantle.”

“We can tell the children wild stories of our adventures, safe in the knowledge they’ll never have their own.”

“Don’t jinx it. You never know what the future will bring.”

He supposed she was right. Just because everything felt safe and peaceful now didn’t mean it would stay that way. Cuddling her close he sighed and closed his eyes. “Sleep well, love.”

The immediate future brought stormy weather, the kind that brought down tree limbs and flooded streets, and resulted in more hammering things in the rain. His people were disappointed to discover there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about large, naturally occurring weather systems.

They finished their bathroom, and decided to add a front porch to their house. They kept trying to have Loki and Syn down for dinner so they could properly thank them for decorating their house—something Loki was still jokingly denying. But Syn wasn’t feeling well and so they kept canceling. 

Valkyrie wasn’t sick at all. He didn’t know if that meant something. They hadn’t discussed the baby-that-might-be since the first night back. He assumed she’d tell him if there was something to know.

The weekend they finally made it down was one of the coldest of the year, clear skies, but a layer of ice on the ground. 

By late in the evening, clouds began rolling in. Thor and Loki were sitting on the porch, drinking fancy wine Loki had brought down from the capitol that Valkyrie didn’t want in the house. Thor was under a layer of cloak and furs, Loki was lounging in his shirtsleeves. “It’s going to snow,” Thor commented. “You may want to stay the night.”

“Convenient that someone got you a sofa with a fold out bed in it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, quite prescient of my mysterious benefactor.”

He huffed a little. “I live in a palace. The least I could do it keep you from sleeping on the floor.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, since he’d finally admitted to it. He peered out at the town, quiet and bundled up against the cold, a scattering of lights in some windows. “I told you once - well, I didn’t know it was you at the time - that I would rather be a good man than a great king.”

“I remember,” he said. “You tried to return the hammer and I was so annoyed I had to tell you to keep it. But it would have blown my cover.”

“You covered it really well.” It had been one of the best conversations he’d had with his father. When he’d realized he’d had it with Loki it had been depressing and oddly touching. “I was right. There is a brutality required in being a ruler. You have it. Syn has it, when she needs to. I don’t have it.”

Loki looked at him, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “To not have darkness in you. You tried to start a war with Jotunhiem out of arrogance and stupidity, I did it out of malice. One is more easily grown out of than the other.”

“I just wonder sometimes. . . if Father had listened to us, had really _known_ us, how different things could have been. You’d have been the king you wanted to be. I’d have been the warrior I wanted to be. We would both have made him proud.”

“He wouldn’t have let me sit on that throne.”

“He might. He called you son, at the end. And Mother would have supported you.”

“Your optimism is as boundless as it is ridiculous,” Loki said, but he was smiling. “Though I heartily agree with your point that we were not raised correctly.”

“We have to do better,” Thor told him. “With ours. Let them be who they will.”

“I agree,” he replied. “I’m certainly not going to raise my children to think there might be some sort of trial by combat for the throne.” He looked over at Thor. “I really thought someday he’d make us fight for it.”

That didn’t surprise him at all. “I suppose I assumed what he intended us to believe. I would rule and you would be my loyal advisor.”

Loki should is head and chuckled. “And it might have worked. You lead the armies and inspire the people. I do the dirty work. Things you couldn’t bring yourself to. Maybe that you wouldn’t even want to know about.” 

“Yes. I suppose together we make a very good King.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t believe in fate or destiny. But Heimdal insists Ragnarok was inevitable. Maybe all of this was inevitable. You get your throne. And I get to try to be a good man.”

“You _are_ a good man. You always have been.”

He smiled a little. “I’m not sure if that counts more or less coming from you.”

Loki hooked a thumb toward the front windows. “Go ask Syn. She can’t lie.”

“Given the clear sea of hormones she’s swimming in I hesitate to ask her anything.”

He squinted at the living room through the windows. “Those hormones will be coming for you, too, soon.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure. It’s been a few weeks and she hasn’t said anything.”

“I don’t know,” Loki said. “They’re sure excited about something in there.” 

Thor turned to follow where he was pointing, and saw Syn and Valkyrie were hugging. He frowned. “Can Syn just. . . tell?” He didn’t think Valkyrie would tell her before him.

“She can. She can sense it. People sometimes come to the palace and ask.”

“Ah. Well they do look happy.” He had been concerned Valkyrie would be less enthused about a baby now that the Time had passed.

Syn saw them looking, and waved for them to come in. They put their glasses down and went back inside, just as Syn was striding up to the door. She caught Loki by the arm and muttered, “Back outside, back outside,” as she shoved him onto the porch and closed the door behind them.

Thor glanced back at them, then to Valkyrie. “So. . .”

She grinned at him, and laughed a little. “Yeah.”

He stepped closer and held his arms out. “Baby?”

“Apparently.” She just about leapt on him, and he caught her, turning them in a circle. “I asked Syn if she could tell,” she mumbled into his neck.

“She is remarkably handy.” He held her tight, kissing her temple. “I’m very happy.”

“Good.” She tipped her face up, and lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. “Me too. So much more than I expected.”

It was good to know his worries hadn’t been unfounded. “I’m glad. You are the one who has to do all the work.”

“The raising is the hard part, and that will be a joint effort.”

“True. Loki and I were just discussing that.”

She kissed him. “I have faith in you. Us.”

“So do I.” And he thought he did. For the first time, he thought, maybe he could handle this. 

Valkyrie hugged him for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’m going to go let Syn and Loki in off the porch.”

“Good idea.” He rubbed her back before letting her go. When he turned, he could see Loki on the other side of the glass, giving him two thumbs up. Thor laughed, shaking his head, and went back to the kitchen to see if they had anything for dessert. It seemed like a good day to celebrate.


	15. Chapter 15

It was traditional on Alfheim to marry at Midsummer. Weddings happened all year round, of course, but unions held at the Midsummer Festival were thought to be special. As ruler, it was expected that Syn marry at the festival. It was what she’d always expected.

Of course, she had not thought she would get pregnant around the first rains when barely betrothed. Or that her council would insist on sticking to tradition since she was marrying an outsider. Or that pregnancy would be so damned uncomfortable.

“Can’t we skip the festival and you can just keep making ice packs for my feet?” She asked Loki hopefully.

He chuckled. “You know how it bothers me when you force me to advocate for ‘doing the right thing’.”

She rubbed a sore spot on her belly and resisted the urge to pout. “I’m so uncomfortable.”

“I know,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “All you have to do is sit in the shade and preside.”

“And you will bring me sweet tea.”

“And I will bring you sweet tea,” he agreed easily.

She sighed. “All right. I should get dressed so we can make our appearance.”

He went over to their bed and picked up the dress Hilde had laid out for her. The only ones that fit any more were shapeless tents. She shrugged out of her robe and stood so he could help her into it, lacing it up lightly in the back. Tugging her lightly against his chest, her rested a hand on her belly and held her a moment, which was nice, especially when the baby nudged his hand.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured, rubbing the spot.

“I think someone is eager to meet her Daddy,” Syn told him.

“We just need to get through this wedding,” Loki said.

“Yes.” Mercifully, Alfan weddings could be as long or short as the couple wanted. Given her state, they were going for very short.

The festival was fully in swing by the time they got out there. People waved and cheered when they saw her, which was vaguely embarrassing, but she supposed it had been a bit of a gamble when or if she’d make it out here.

Alfan women tended to find pregnancy uncomfortable. Bruce had told her women on Midgard were fairly similar. Asgardian women hardly seemed to notice. She didn’t want to be irritated that Valkyrie, not very far behind Syn, was participating in—and apparently winning—the spear-throwing contest. But she kind of was.

Loki dutifully brought her sweet tea, which meant she had to run to the loo every ten minutes. The first few times she let him escort her, but eventually the waiting on her hand and and foot started to chafe, so she sent him to go host the children’s treasure hunt.

She was growing more and more uncomfortable and decided to go for a - very slow - walk away from the crowd to breathe a bit.

Over by the hart paddock she was hit with a contraction hard enough to stop her in her tracks and it occurred to her “uncomfortable” had been “labor.”

Loki appeared next to her in a flash of green. “What’s wrong?”

She blew out a breath. “How did you know?” She hadn’t even sent out a flare.

“Heimdal,” he replied. “Is it time?”

“Yes. It’s possible it’s past time. I can concentrate enough to-“ Another contraction came and she hissed, grabbing his arm. “Healer Elena. Now.”

“Can we transport? Should I carry you?” he sounded openly panicked.

“Yes. Yes. Actually. Take me to our room, then go get Elena.” She looped an arm around his neck and he scooped her up, teleporting in the same motion. They appeared in their chamber and he set he down on the bed before popping away again.

Syn covered her eyes with an arm and focused on breathing while waiting for him to reappear.

A moment later she felt a rush of air, and then Elena said, “You certainly have interesting timing.”

“I blame him,” Syn said, gesturing vaguely to where she thought Loki was. “He loves a dramatic entrance.”

“I do not approve of this,” he said. “We’re supposed to get married tonight.”

Elena made an amused sound, examining Syn. “The rate this is going, you’ll still have time.”

“That seems kind of. . . gauche, doesn’t it? Walking down the aisle with your half-hour old baby.”

“There’s no aisle. Handfasting can be as formal or casual as you want it.”

“There’s also no crime in waiting.” Syn grit her teeth and let out a long, slow breath. “The baby is legitimate either way.”

“Should we have someone come in here and do it?”

Elena seemed to decide to ignore him, sliding a hand under Syn’s hips. The pain eased to a low pressure and she felt like she could think again. “How long do I have?”

The healer considered. “A half an hour before you should push?”

Syn nodded and looked at Loki. “Get your brother and Valkyrie. And Hilde and tell her to bring the ribbons.”

Loki flashed away. Elena chuckled. “Shotgun wedding in the birthing room, eh?”

Syn shrugged. “It seems important to him.”

Hilde came first, with her fistful of ribbons. “You couldn’t wait one more day,” she asked Syn’s stomach accusingly.

“I’m sure this is an indication of the rest of my life with this child.”

“If I said I was surprised, that would be a lie.”

Loki reappeared with Thor and Valkyrie. He returned to her side, still looking vaguely panicked. “Darling, I need you to calm down or I’m having Elena give you a sedative.”

“Men have no place in a birthing room, if you ask me,” Elena said.

“Too scary,” Syn agreed. She held out a hand. “Hilde, love, ribbons please.” She handed them over and Syn took Loki’s hand. “We say our vows and wrap the ribbons around our wrists. Hilde will tie them and you can cut the back so I can preserve the knot.”

“All right,” he said quietly, seriously. Then he added, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” she told him, then winced with another contraction. “Right, short version.” She wound a long ribbon around both their wrists. “You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it I will give you what is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am free, but I shall serve you in those ways you require. I shall be a shield for your back and the blade at your side. From this day it shall be only you name I cry out in the night and into your eyes that I smile each morning. Above all else I will cherish you through this life and into what lays beyond.” She’d managed three ribbons during that and Hilde carefully tied them together, pretending not to cry.

Loki had to clear his throat twice before he could repeat the vows back to her. Hilde showed him how to twine his ribbon ends through Syn’s, so she could combine the knots. It came out quite beautiful and intricate. “Now cut it,” she told Loki, drawing a line on the back of their arms with a finger.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of tying?”

“We save the knot and hang it in the house,” Syn explained with far more patience than she felt. “To represent out promise to each other. That’s why you cut the back, not the knot.”

A small dagger appeared in his hand, and he gently cut the rope. He caught the knot before it fell, and then lifted her hand up to kiss her palm. She smiled and stroked his cheek, then blew out a breath and a contraction came.

“Right,” Elena said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to witness the miracle of life, head out now.”

“That was the strangest wedding I’ve ever been to,” Thor said, and Valkyrie shushed him as she shoved him out the door.. 

Hilde had taken a spot at Syn’s side. She was the closest thing to a sister she had, after all. She looked over at Loki. “Are you staying?”

He looked a little faint, but said, “Absolutely.”

She hadn’t wanted to ask, but she was very glad he was there. Curling her hand around his, she looked down at Elena, who nodded. On the next wave of pressure, she took a deep breath and pushed, long and hard.

Elena told her she’d done good and Hlide murmured encouragement, but it all sort of bled away. The next contraction came and she pushed again, holding Loki’s hand tightly. She lost track of how many times she did it, or how fast they seemed to come, one of top of the other.

“This’ll be the last one if you do it right,” Elena called.

Syn was very much done with this whole process. So when the pressure started she put everything she had left into it, letting out a low wail. Her magic lashed out and the whole room seemed to shake. Then the air was pierced with a hoarse, angry, baby’s cry.

“She’s pink,” Loki said, sounding utterly delighted.

She was too exhausted to laugh, but Syn gave him a little pat, sagging back on her pillows.

Elena wiped the baby off and bundled her up before handing her over to Loki so she could deal with the afterbirth. He carried the baby up to the head of the bed and sat next to Syn. “She has ten finger and ten toes and is full of magic,” he said.

Syn leaned on him to get a look at their daughter, all bundled in a white blanket with a very disgruntled look of her face. “Hello little one,” she murmured, touching her with a fingertip. “Don’t look so grumpy. It was your idea to come out so soon.”

“You should hold her,” he said, passing her over. “She’s perfect.”

Tucking her to her chest, Syn stroked the fine fuzz of hair on the baby’s head. “She needs a name.”

He took a breath. “I would like to name her after my mother.”

“Frigga.” She studied the baby a moment, then nodded. “Yes. That feels right.”

He grinned. “Thank you. For. . .so many things.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Husband.”

“I know it was ridiculous, I just—“ He sighed. “I didn’t want anyone to ever have any space to question her.”

“I understand, I do. She is ours. No one will ever doubt her place.”

He stroked the top of the baby’s head. “Will she inherit even if we have sons?”

“She will. She’s the eldest. My father’s mother was queen in her own name.”

“Good,” he said firmly. He shifted to stretch out on the bed next to her. “You were pretty amazing, by the way.”

She stifled a yawn and cuddled against his side. Frigga was rooting a bit, so she readjusted her dress and held her up to feed. “I did what women have done for millennia. But thank you.”

“Perhaps you just did it better.”

“All right, that I’ll allow.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Midsummer is my favorite holiday.”

“Mmm. Let’s hope next years is a little less eventful?”

“One can only hope. Shall I go out and make the announcement? And perhaps see if I can steal some of our wedding feast for us to eat?”

“That sounds lovely. I think her highness and I will take a nap.”

“Do you need anything else?”

Eventually, she was going to change into a nightgown she could live in for a few days, but that wasn’t something she needed his help with. “Food and a nap sounds just perfect,” she told him.

He stroked the baby’s face a moment, then kissed her again and let himself out.

*

By summer, Asgard was humming along, and Thor discovered his primary duties seemed to be settling petty disputes, and marrying people. There were a lot of weddings. Anyone who’d didn’t already have a family took to heart the need to start one. A lot of them married Alfans, and tipped off a bit of a baby boom. 

The first fall festival had been an impromptu party thrown in honor of the first Asgardian baby born on Alfheim. The second happened much the same way, to celebrate the birth of his son. 

Valkyrie had specifically requested to not have an audience outside. But their house was in the dead middle of the village facing the green, and she did not labor quietly. Also not particularly swiftly, so the party gathered, dispersed, and gathered again over the course of two days during which he did not sleep—save for a couple hours when Loki dragged him to the meeting house for a meal and he fell asleep in his plate. He was woken by the sound of the Festival setting up a live band.

At one point Valkyrie demanded to be brought her sword, though if it was to castrate him or slay the revelers outside, Thor wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps both.

He had witnessed her win hand-to-hand combat with a spaceship, and he’d seen her fight the Goddess of Death, but he’d never been more awed than by seeing her push their child into the world. Though he was honestly probably never going to look at their bathtub quite the same again.

The baby crying caused a roar and cheer to go up from the party outside, which thankfully made her laugh. “God, it looks like we had a battle in here.”

He hadn’t wanted to be the one to say it. “That we lost.”

“Wait until you see the afterbirth,” Syn commented from where she was leaning over the other end of the tub.

“I—I don’t think I want to see that.”

“Hey, I cleaned out your gross mangled eye and I barely knew you,” Valkyrie said. Outside the band had begun to play the Royal Battle Anthem, which made her laugh again. She lifted the baby up to him. “Clean him up and go show him his future subjects.”

The baby was mostly clean from having been born in the water. But Thor ruined a few towels getting the last of the blood and gore off of him, before wrapping him up in the blanket Syn had made for him. His son had fair skin, but a mop of dark, soot black hair. Currently, he was scowling as to indicate he hated the whole world and looked a bit like Loki, which made Thor laugh, even in the midst of his awe.

“The look on your face is kind of worth the last two days,” Valkyrie said, reaching up to touch the tiny foot poking from the blanket.

“I imagine it’s some sort of idiotic smile.” He crouched by the tub so she could see the baby

She was making a similar face for a moment, then she winced and hunch a little. “Ow! What that-?”

“That would be the afterbirth,” Syn said.

“Oh. Fuck. That,” she growled in return. She was making the same face she’d made when she’d asked for the sword. Syn waved at him to go.

He thought briefly about kissing Valkyrie on the head, but decided against it and stood, carrying the baby out to meet the waiting crowd. 

Loki was loitering in the living room, and hopped up. “It honestly sounded like a Midgard torture chamber was in there. Syn did not yell like that.” He paused and before Thor could respond and suggest he go try repeating that to Valkyrie, Loki added, “Though she did shatter 16 windows worth of glass and fry most of the electronics in our wing of the palace.

“I think I’ll take the yelling,” Thor said. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

Loki came close enough to peer at the baby. “I think he looks like me.”

“It’s the hair,” Thor said, in too good of a mood to take the bait.

“Congratulations.” Loki nudged him. “They’re getting rowdy out there, you should go.”

“Thank you.” He paused, listening to the crowd. “Come with me?"

Loki looked amused. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly gotten stage fright.”

“No, but I am suffering from severe sleep deprivation and want to make sure someone will catch the baby if I pass out.”

“Right. Maybe we’ll sit you in one of your nice porch chairs. I could give it an illusion so it looks like a throne.”

Thor chuckled as they started to walk out to the porch. “Not every chair I sit in has to be a throne.”

Once he stepped outside, there was another loud cheer from the crowd. There wasn’t much to do but stand and hold the baby and wave. Heimdal and Sif emerged from the front part of the crowd to come up on the porch for a better look, and it was Sif who herded him into a porch swing he’d built that summer. The baby seemed to like the rocking.

Out in the green the band started up again, now with dancing in the middle of the green. Small fire-pits were lit up—people were cautious about bonfires—and meat was roasting. A puppet show for children was going on over by the meeting house, and kegs of ale were on stands in the street. It was quite the party.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually Valkyrie came out of the house, wrapped in a thick robe. She sat next to him and took the baby since he’d begun to fuss. She nursed him and put her head on Thor’s shoulder. “It is kind of a nice party.”

“It is,” he agreed, putting his arm around her and tucking them both close. “We should do it again next year.”

And so every year after that, they did. Eventually it grew so epic that droves of Alfans came down from the city for it every fall, and Syn declared it an official holiday.

Valkyrie complained Magni thought the festival was specifically in honor of his birthday, and could not be convinced otherwise. 

“I worry he’ll be a brat,” Thor said to his brother while they watched their children decorate gourds. “Regardless of what we do. Maybe it’s hereditary.”

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Loki replied around a mouthful of food. “But you do have a great deal off Asshole in your gene pool.” He swallowed. “The girls will keep him in line.” Loki and Syn had four daughters. Alfans didn’t have huge gaps between their children like Asgardians did.

“Perhaps we should send him to the palace for the summer,” Thor mused. “Let him remember his place.”

“You are always welcome to come up, I love being less out numbered.” He leaned forward and yelled, “Do not dip your sister’s hair in that paint!”

Frigga turned and gave him the most innocent look imaginable. “She said she wanted hair like mine!” She called back.

“Valkyrie told me that was a fad now,” Thor commented. “Ladies all over the realm dying their hair blue.” His eldest and youngest nieces both had blue hair.

“The benefit of being royal is that your oddities become trends and not sources of mockery,” Loki said dryly. Thor could tell he was pleased. With each birth he dreaded a baby coming out looking Jotun but Thor suspected even if one did he’d trot her around like a proud papa. No one had ever loved his babies the way Loki loved his girls.

“I’m still not sure I approve of fate rewarding you for all your mischief by making you a King.”

“Devil’s own luck, eh?” He squinted out at the crowd. “If it eases your mind, fate has also cursed me with children just like myself. Speaking of, I would strongly suggest Magni not pick up that kitten.”

Sure enough, his son had wandered off and found a little calico kitten amongst the gourds. Before Thor could call out a warning, Magni had scooped it up. The kitten promptly turned into Loki’s middle daughter, Raine, who cackled, smushed what Thor hoped was a cupcake in her cousin’s face and leapt away, running to her mother for protection from a now raging Magni.

“Remember she’s littler than you,” Thor called out to Magni.

“But she has magic!”

“Yes, and all she did was smash a cupcake on you. Your uncle used to stab me.”

“Uphill, both ways,” Loki muttered so the kids couldn’t hear. Raine had reached Syn and was hiding under her cloak so Magni couldn’t get to her.

He stopped short, stamping his foot angrily. Somewhere above, thunder rumbled.

Thor and Loki both looked up. “Oh, dear.”

“Magni, darling,” Syn sing-songed, turning deftly to keep Raine hidden. “I hid a special treat in the gourd patch, why don’t you try to find it?” With a glance up, she added, “I hope if doesn’t rain, it might ruin the surprise.”

Thor could see him considering this, and then he turned and dashed off. The sky cleared. 

“Didn’t know that was hereditary,” Loki commented.

“It’s started recently,” Thor said. “That’s the worst I’ve seen. Valkyrie told me she scolded him the other day and there was a bit of static in the air.”

Loki shook his head. “You are really in for it.” 

“That was the other reason we thought about sending him to the palace for a bit,” he admitted. “You and Syn grew up with magic. You’d be better teachers than me. I don’t want it to get out of control.”

“I will enjoy borrowing your son, since I will not have any of my own.”

Thor arched a brow. “Are you done then? I expected you to keep going to infinity.”

“Well, I can have daughters into infinity.” He shrugged. “Banner and his people have been doing research into my apparently fascinating genetics.” As it turned out, Loki did have some Asgardian blood in him, just a tiny bit, but enough his magic could use it to guide his appearance. It was also just enough to allow he and Syn to have children. The research had been going on for years, and had answered questions his brother had had for years. “The precise details—which were explained to me in an excruciatingly lengthy fashion—are quite boring. But the small part of me that is, well, compatible can only make girls.”

That was all beyond Thor, genetics was not his forte. But he trusted Banner and his people to know what was what. He rested a hand on Loki’s back. “I’m sorry, brother.”

“Don’t be, my daughters are amazing. I’m happy to have more. You know, he says there shouldn’t be much Jotun in them, but something is making that hair. I’m very tempted to see if any of them change when touching the Cask of Winter.”

Thor turned slowly. “Didn’t that blow up with the rest of Old Asgard?”

Loki rubbed the back of his neck. “Not exactly. I nicked it and the Tesseract from the Treasure Room when I went to summon Sartur.”

He stared at him a moment. “And you didn’t think to mention this till now?”

“I gave them to Syn not long after we arrived. She’s got them hidden somewhere. She took a vow by the Tree not to tell me if I asked, but she didn’t vow not to tell you, for example, so I thought it best nobody know.”

Well, that was something at least. “With the Tesseract we could go to other realms again. Perhaps create some sort of replacement for the Bifrost.”

“You know, I honestly hadn’t thought of that.”

Thor chuckled. “Once in a great while, I can still outsmart you. That’s nice to know.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he muttered.

“Oh, of course not.” They sat in silence a few moments. “I would never have predicted this future. But I am glad it’s where we ended up.”

Loki looked over at him and smiled. “Me too. Glad we never succeeded in killing each other.”

“We were really bad at that, weren’t we? Given all the other people we’ve managed to kill.”

He laughed. “Maybe that was a sign.”

"That or we weren't trying very hard." He grinned and put his arm around Loki's shoulders. "Happy harvest, brother.”

“Same to you.” He grinned briefly, and then squinted into the distance, before standing. “Yeah. . . I think Frigga and Magni just lit something on fire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of our adventures on Alfheim. A new Ragnarok story will start by the end of the week. Also in the works, a new series by the end of the month.


End file.
